


007

by FreckledSkittles



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Animal Transformation, M/M, Mild Language, Mystery, Romance, Superheroes, Superpowers, Telekinesis, it's not law and order but it's something, maybe it's from a sonic character idk, thanks jean, well psychokinesis but still
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:36:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 62,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckledSkittles/pseuds/FreckledSkittles
Summary: Marco awakens one day to discover he is no longer Marco Bodt, but a three-digit number in a government-owned research facility. His new identity: 007. His guardians: the Wings of Freedom. He has possession of an inhuman ability, and he is not allowed to return home. Life, for him, is starting over.However, Marco is not alone in this struggle. While he attempts to create a new home, he discovers the underlying layers that the Wings of Freedom didn't tell him about. The further away he is pulled from what he knows, the more he questions whether his new life is fit for him.[Author's note: hiatus until I can decide what to do with the story. I am greatly sorry to those who enjoyed this version! Hopefully, if my writing and your patience persists, the next one will be more pleasing.]





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

> One time, I wrote a story about superheroes but it sucked so I rewrote it ten thousand times and came to this conclusion. Here's to hoping it works out!

It was with a sharp gasp and a shudder that Marco opened his eyes and discovered that he was far from the place he had been in last. The sky above him was a ceiling with dark metal plates, and the ground beneath him was canvas held up by the same chilling material. He detected voices that should have been familiar, but they were foreign and strange to his ears. Clearly, they were not the same people he was originally in the company of. His memory was clear of a bridge that could connect what he last recalled and the present.

When he tried to move his hands, he realized they were strapped down. His ankles were also stuck in the same predicament, unwanted and yet confusing as to why it would be done. Had he done something to warrant restraints? Or perhaps his captors didn’t want him getting away.

Right, his captors. That was what they, the mysterious figures, were to him.

It was only when his heart returned to a normal rhythm that Marco started to twist and buck in place. Almost instantly, two pairs of hands slammed onto him and tried to hold his arms down. The faces of the figures were too far from the distant light to be distinguished, but it tricked him into believing that the lankier one had hair with a blue tint.

“He’s starting to flicker again,” the other and more blockier of the two announced. The pair of hands were on his arms, just above the straps, but there was something pushing against him that shoved harshly at the hands. The dark-haired one seemed to tighten up a bit more at the added pressure.

“He’s awake?” Another new voice asked, this one prominently different from either of the two above.

“Seems to be. Looks like we didn’t knock him down hard enough.”

“Don’t worry about it. The straps should keep him down. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

The words from the slightly feminine voice were not as taunting as Marco expected, but they still upset him enough to warrant more squirms. His throat felt too hoarse to make words, and his mouth felt dry and used up. It was the unpleasant icing to complete the caking of aching joints and limbs that throbbed from exertion. How it got there, how his body had reached such a point, Marco couldn’t place it. It had to have happened during the part of his memory that was more like a gaping hole than a tiny blink.

“The chamber’s ready for him.”

“Damn, he really needs to detox. He could take down the entire facility at this point.”

“Don’t give him ideas, Jean.”

“What, you think he can remember anything?” The snarky voice appeared above him, and a pair of amber flashed from a strange artificial light that streamed from below. “He’s got nothing.”

Marco took that opportunity to throw his upper body forward and direct himself towards the newcomer. Unfortunately, the owner of the amber ducked out of the way with a surprised yelp, keeping out of reach, but it didn’t stop his restrained body from fighting once more against the straps holding him firmly down. The hands on either side of him barely flinched at his attempted lunge, but the first voice from earlier appeared once more.

“Quit antagonizing him, Jean. You know what this was like.”

None of it made sense. There was talk of past experiences, a detox and a chamber that sounded prepared to take him, but he wanted as little to do with them as possible. If it was a sick game, a troupe of thieves or famed kidnappers or something, he was going to give them a fight they had never witnessed before. If they wanted something from him, he vowed that he would refuse it to his last breath.

The scenery above changed, chilled air and blue skies opening up above, and for a brief second, the hands disappeared and he was jostled about. He thought he could try and roll over, slip his hands out of the straps to try and make a run for it, but he was moving once more without his control, surrounded by the noises and sights of outside, and moving faster than ever. Another look over his body delivered not only a teasing sight of the retreating line of trees, but proved that with all four limbs down for the count, he had no way of escaping.

As he was moved inside, by faces he could now confirm as unrecognizable in clear lighting, Marco discovered that a new type of energy was brimming inside of him. It was something unlike anything he had ever felt before, and it seemed to occupy every crevice and space of his body that it found. When he flexed his fingers, the sensation traveled down his arms in a shiver and stopped at his wrists, held back by the cuffs. It was indescribable for him, an unrecognizable feeling with no possible description.

“Watch him. He’s testing it.”

The voice came from his feet, a lighter sound that was equally cautious. Marco glanced over at him, making eye contact with sharp teal dusted by shaggy brunet tresses, before he heard and watched him gasp under his breath.

“Jeez, it’s even scarier to look at him. I feel like he’s in my head.”

“His ability doesn’t include mind reading,” the girl beside him said. Her most distinct feature was not her eyes, though they rumbled with a glare, and it was not her overall beauty, as striking as it was. It was the red scarf wrapped around her neck, combed out of actual fire and presenting no harm or bother to her whatsoever that reeled him in.

Marco wasn’t sure how or what happened, but in a split second, he was halted so that ice water could be pressed against his forehead. The chills caused him to cry out, a ragged gravel with clear strain, but it didn’t hold him back from trying to escape the dampness.

“I hate when you do that.”

“If you have another way to cool him down, Eren, then be my guest and try it. For now, it works, so we’ll do it.”

The cold didn’t stop washing over him, and it didn’t stop affecting him when he ceased his struggles and his body flopped against the canvas once more. If he was standing, his posture would have been drooping forward. Everything was numb, and his world was blurring through half-lidded eyes. When he tried to move, he did nothing more than twitch. Now the fatigue was resettling inside him, cozying up alongside the unpleasant chill that was brimming there.

For a while, nothing seemed to change except for the pace. Marco barely registered that he had stopped moving until all at once, the straps were removed and he was lifted up by a pair of firm arms. He blinked and made an attempt to regain his bearings in the dimly-lit setting, but before he could, he was tossed onto the ground and surrounded by a tall glass cylinder. The connection his back made to tile was enough to warrant him motionless while he was trapped from all sides.

The voices continued to drift around him, muffled slightly from his new barrier, some new but the others remaining until one by one they left. He had enough room to splay out his limbs and just stare up at the only thing he was capable of looking at. Venting slits closed off the tube of glass and extended outwards into a metal portion that disappeared into the wall. The purpose of it was met with not just a lack of knowledge, but a complete bewilderment on why something like that would be above him.

It was only when the pain receded from his back and the cold drifted out of his body that he sat up and leaned against the closest surface. It was only when he focused his gaze to his surroundings, in a wide room with a few wooden tables and nothing else, that he realized he was alone.

Alone, except for the owner of the golden amber eyes.

Marco tensed up immediately when he realized that the person had been staring at him this whole time, and he curled into himself as much as he could. This person had light-colored hair that was messy in ways that could only be from a result of running through it constantly. The exhaustion in their shoulders, the type that revealed how begrudgingly they had accepted their fate, led him to believe that they wanted nothing more than to be away from him. There was a mysterious rectangular device, held in a strap that went diagonally across their chest, that illuminated a little bit of extra light. It accentuated their jaw and mouth, bringing a dim light to the rest of their features, and amplified the intensity of their gaze.

The person tensed—they couldn’t have been much older than Marco, only fifteen. That was the only reassuring fact about them. “Quit staring at me like that.”

Marco averted his eyes and stared at his feet, hoping to make himself smaller. He hadn’t done much, and yet this person was already through with it.

There was a beat of silence, the outsider shifting, and then they spoke again. “You’re taking this really well.”

That got him to look back over. The claim was shocking, almost unreal to him. How was anything about him, down to the smallest detail, even remotely labeled as “taking this well”? “What?”

The person huffed, almost in irritation that their point wasn’t getting across to him. “You’re just sitting there. How are you not panicking right now?”

Marco almost unfurled himself, but he kept his legs close to his chest. It made him feel too vulnerable and open otherwise. And that was the last message he wanted to deliver to this stranger. “You don’t think I’m panicking?”

“When I came here, I wanted to do nothing more than to break that glass. I tried until my knuckles bled. You shouldn’t be so…relaxed.”

By not fitting into the expectations of the bizarre situation he had been tossed into, he was automatically labeled as incompetent, unable to perform for these people. The thought made Marco’s stomach churn; fitting in was the last thing he should be worried about. Wasn’t that the advice his parents gave him for school? “Why did you come here?”

The silence was enough of an answer: he should not be asking that. And the maneuver away from the question made it even more clear. “Your shoe’s untied.”

A trivial matter when there were bigger inquiries to ponder about. Marco looked down anyway and noticed that one of his worn red high tops was, in fact, untied. He debated briefly on whether he should tie it or not, if only to see the reaction from his odd companion, but he had no time to reach out and adjust them. The laces wavered together in the air, encased in a blue aura, and intertwined to form the loopy bow. Once it was completed, they went slack and lost the color as quickly as they had received it, but it was still a shock to behold. Marco could only jump at the actions and gasp under his breath, having gone too fast for him to comprehend them in time.

“Psh.” The mystery person shifted so that he was sitting with the chair’s back facing Marco. He put his legs on either side and plopped down with a disinterested sigh. The change in position still kept him in the shadows, but that little bit of light streaming from below was enough to catch some movements. “Relax, it’s just reflexes. Your mind’s not processing your thoughts because it’s too muddled from transformation. It hasn’t made the connection between your new power and your body yet.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Marco admitted. It made no more sense than anything else. “How did I transform?”

They shrugged and leaned their crossed arms on top of the chair. “I wasn’t there.”

“Then how do you know that I did?”

“Because I do.”

“That’s not very helpful.”

“I’m here to keep watch, not help you out. You need supervision.”

Marco wanted to know why he needed that, as if he was supposedly dangerous, but he knew those answers were not going to be delivered. Instead of wasting his time, he let his legs flop outward, spread out, and dropped back against the glass. He forced his constricting chest and whirring head from delving into just how lonely he was feeling. Pity, as his mother used to tell him, was too close to the word petty. And a pity party for himself was the last thing he needed.

It was in the midst of his clanging thoughts on fighting or succumbing to his unfortunate solitude when he took notice of the two swirling bands around both of his wrists. They were thin and covered in the same color that had encased his shoelaces, but slightly brighter. The rings spun around in perfect unison, speeding up as he marveled their motion and overall appearance. Only when he relaxed and let his hand make contact with them did they slow. Touching them was unusual, for it felt like the most natural feeling in the world, and yet he had never seen or experienced anything like it before.

“H-hey,” he spoke up, clearing his voice slightly to sound more sure and less frightened, and he shook his wrist, “what are these?”

The ringlets made no sound aside from the soft hum of energy they seemed to hold inside and the movement didn’t make it do anything new, but the waving got his guard’s attention. “Weird,” they scoffed mockingly. “It’s a kinetic thing. It’s your power’s way of identifying you.”

 _A kinetic thing._ There was no way for him to even start to comprehend that. “I don’t know what a kinetic is.”

The amber eyes flared up at him, a warning to keep quiet. “Sounds like a personal problem.”

Marco gulped and settled into a less open position, tucking his legs underneath him. “It’s not my fault.”

There was a slight falter in their voice, almost like they didn’t know what to say in response. “What’s not your fault?”

“Not knowing what happened to me or what this power is. It’s all new to me, a-and—” He took a steadying breath, a reminder to not lose his head, “anyone in my position would be confused and asking questions and trying to figure out what happened as best as they can. It’s not my fault.”

For a moment, there was no response. There was just an icy mute and a thick tenseness that clogged the air. Marco felt a bit more of his energy dwindling to a dull low, and some of it flaked off of him and floated above. He followed a few pieces and watched them vanish through the slates of the vents. Their actions only further pursued his questions, and further wonder of the vent’s purpose, but he bit them back. Bringing them up only seemed to bring more trouble than they were worth.

If he was going to learn anything about himself, he would not get it from this person. Marco hoped that others would return so he could figure something out, even if they did not have the best intentions. He was presented with a new facet of himself, an alternative to what he knew himself to be. Anyone, he had initially hoped before his conversations with the guard, would want to find out what had decided to change if they were in his place.

“My name’s Jean.”

Marco’s head shot up at the announcement. There was slight resignation, a slumping of the shoulders, that the figure suddenly pertained. _Pity is too close to the word petty._ “Wh-what was that?”

“Eugh.” The person stood up and stomped over, only to drop down in front of him and cross his legs. “You fucking heard me. Don’t make me repeat it.”

Although he wasn’t going to push the already bad attitude, Marco was certainly going to pursue this new conversation—brought up by the other boy, no less. “You said…Jean, right?”

Jean nodded, trepidation glinting in his eyes. Now that he was a bit closer and sitting in better light, Marco could make out his appearance a bit better. His face still had a childlike softness to it, probably a result from the remainder of puberty he had to achieve. His hair looked soft, ash blond and long enough to brush his collar. Although there was a scowl on his lips, his nose scrunching up ever so slightly, Marco didn’t believe that he was so naturally grouchy and was using it to hide. Something about him gave off that particular vibe, but there was little proof for it yet.

“That’s French, right?”

“No, it’s Greek.”

“Oh.” Marco almost settled for the answer, a little confused and disappointed that his general knowledge didn’t pick it up, until he noticed the deviant smirk on the other side of the glass. _Oh._ He tried to put on a smile, to play along with the joke he had pulled. “Good one.”

“Thanks.” Jean’s tone still lingered with sarcasm. “Dumb questions are usually met with bullshit answers.”

“It’s never bad to double-check.”

“I never said it was. I just said it was dumb.”

“That counts as the same thing, doesn’t it?”

Jean’s eyes narrowed. Talking with him had dissolved the tension in his body, but Marco saw it rear back and return to its place. “Right now, it’s not.”

Marco scooted closer to the glass so he could face his strange companion better and mirrored his sitting position. “How is it different then?”

“You ask too many questions.” Jean sighed, but he still provided an answer. “You can still be dumb but not be bad.”

“That doesn’t really make sense.”

“I didn’t ask you if it made sense! I was only telling you because you wanted to know!”

“You yell too much.” Marco’s eyes wandered downward, more to grapple at his ankles, but he noticed a particularly bad bruise on Jean’s right wrist. Trailing up for further inspection, he discovered that his shirt sleeve was ripped in places, almost like something had scratched him. “What happened to your arm?”

Jean glanced over at the spot in question, and he  pulled his sleeve down to simultaneously flatten the rips and cover up his wrist. He was less embarrassed and more alarmed at the notification. “Nothing happened. It just ripped.”

“Your wrist doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Right, because it’s none of your business.”

“Hey.” Marco leaned in closer, and even with the glass separating them, Jean jumped back. “It really doesn’t look good. That’s all.”

Jean’s upper lip curled at that. Some spite from earlier returned to his eyes, but with a more malicious intention than before. “And what, _you’re_ gonna do something about it?”

The words stung, there was no denying that, but the truth was just as strong. There was nothing for him to do. Not only was he trapped behind glass, but there was no authority in his position. He barely knew Jean, and there was no reason for him to be concerned about someone who hadn’t treated him nicely since he arrived. “You should get it checked out, is all.”

The boy simply scoffed at him. He glanced down and fiddled with his hands, frustration blooming on his features. “It’s fine. _I’m_ fine. That’s supposed to be the important thing, right?” When he looked back up at Marco, it was with a dare to challenge what he said. But Marco knew better and only nodded. He wasn’t going to do anything that could potentially upset him, especially now that they were talking. Granted, it wasn’t a nice conversation, but it was still something.

Silence settled over them once again, and Marco found himself traveling back to his thoughts for vicarious inquiries on what had happened to him. It was only because of his strain to understand Jean’s injuries without asking him and his waking up strapped down to a gurney that led him down that path. He didn’t consider himself to be a rough person, but his loss of a memory of how he had gotten there—and possessed a strange inhuman ability—and the words of his suspected captors regarding him were cause for concern.

The last thing he recalled before coming into contact with total darkness was bringing his younger sister Valencia to the park. She liked to go under the tall trees or sit among the small clusters of flowers and buzzing bees that hopped from each center. Sometimes, a friendly dog would bound up to her and greet her with unrivaled joy. She enjoyed collecting different stones and rocks, and one in particular had caught her attention off of the main path. Marco recalled promising to retrieve it, but anything after that was gone.

The sudden thought of Valencia startled something in his heart, and Marco’s scramble to jump to his knees and vigorously tap on the glass startled Jean. If there was anything he needed to know, even if it meant losing a chance to find out the truth about his ability, it was how or where his sister was. “I need to know what happened to my sister.”

Jean’s eyebrow cocked up at that, and he rubbed his sleeve under his nose. “Sister?”

“Yes, I was with my sister in the park before everything happened.” Desperation clogged his throat and lungs, and he had to pause for a breath before he jumped right back in. “She has long brown hair that she wears in a ponytail, and she has a few freckles on her face, but not as much as mine—”

“Was she in a wheelchair?”

Marco froze, relief flooding through him but not without an accompaniment of fear. The thought of something happening to her, from his or any hand, hurt to think about. “You saw her.” It was a sigh of relief instead of a question, but Jean still gave a cautious nod.

“When we found you, you two were the only ones in the park. Everyone had either been pushed out or ran away in time.” He bowed his head to scoff, but it contained disbelief rather than mockery. “You could tell she didn’t see anything differently, but you were floating off the ground and your eyes were just…” Jean glanced up at him before looking away, back to the side, “it was…something. But she didn’t care.”

A whimper bubbled in his chest, and no matter how hard he chomped on his lips, the sound still rippled out of him. There were more questions than he had imagined—what “we” meant, what happened to his eyes, how they had even _found_ him—but he forced himself to stay focused. “But did she… I-I mean, was she hurt? Did she cry? Did she even get back home?”

“You barely let anyone go near her, but when we finally subdued you, someone took care of her. No one hurt her though.” Jean stopped to chuckle, the first genuine sound Marco had heard from him. “We didn’t want to, but you made it pretty damn clear that we were not going to get to her.”

“So…” He had to gulp and slide back down to the ground with a thud before he was able to muster up the courage to speak. “She’s okay.”

“I’m pretty sure she is, yeah.”

Marco collapsed to the ground and shut his eyes, breathing in and out as slowly as he could despite the rapid beating of his heart. Valencia was okay. If anything, a stranger found the contact information from the medical bracelet on her wrist or the card in a pocket of her chair and was able to get their parents. It was daunting to think of how lost they must feel to not have their son, but he was more relieved that his sister was okay. She was okay. That was most important.

“Is it a thing for you to care more about others than yourself?”

The amber gaze hadn’t stopped staring and burning into him since he fell over. Marco felt too drained to push himself back up; bigger bits of energy had wafted off of him in his worried train of thought. Instead, he just nodded and curled up in a more comfortable position on his side. “People are important to me.”

“The only thing you’ve asked about is those rings on your wrists. You haven’t tried to ask me anything about yourself, but you jump at the first chance to wonder about your sister, who’s not even here.”

“Was I supposed to ask about myself?”

Jean rolled his eyes and groaned. “Maybe, yeah! You should be asking about stuff like your power or how you got here or what a detox is!”

“What happens if I do?”

The ranting halted as abruptly as it had began. Jean stared at him with wide eyes, blinking owlishly at his now relaxed form. For a moment, his eyes flashed in realization and sudden clarification, akin to waking from a daze and just realizing where he was. He cleared his throat and gripped the bright rectangle going diagonal across his chest. The illumination had stayed constant throughout their conversation, and being reminded of it once more brought back his curiosity to its purpose and presence.

Marco almost forced himself to sit up, to gather Jean’s attention back to him, but then he was talking rapidly, with a sudden blush to accompany his explanation. “I can’t tell you anything, because I don’t have that type of authorization, even though I could help you because I just went through everything, and—”

“So you can’t actually help me?” Marco interrupted him, trying to wrap his head around the anger that had just been replaced with hypocrisy and a rather confusing choice in words.

Jean looked frantic in trying to cover up, his eyes skitting from his face to the ground. It almost looked like he was trying to find a hiding place. “W-well, I can tell you about detoxing, since I’m here for that, but, I mean, I can’t do anything else.”

“So why did you say that I should?”

“Because it…” He stopped himself, fists clenching, and started over. “This isn’t normal. You shouldn’t be acting like it is. You should be asking questions and trying your damnedest to get to the bottom of this. Bash against the glass or yell or something. I don’t know.” Jean glowered at him like he was disgusted. “Not lie on the ground and let it happen.”

Marco wanted to fight back, condemn him for the bewildering maze he had just led him through, but he only had enough in him to yawn and stretch his hands out in front of him. His nails scraped along the bottom of the glass tube, the blue from the rings flickering faintly in the reflection. Jean continued to gawk at him silently. He was putting in so much effort by sitting  up like that. Looking at him just dragged more exhaustion down on his shoulders.

“Y’know,” Jean seemed calmer than before, but his nervous fidgeting led Marco to believe that he was struggling with it, “napping helps the detoxing process go faster.”

“Does it really?” He stifled another yawn into the crook of his elbow and sighed. “That sounds like a good idea.”

There was a beat of hesitation, and then Jean slid into view. He was lying on his back, but his head was facing Marco; his eyes glinted with the desperation to find steady ground. Marco simply smiled at him, grateful that he had followed his initiative instead of rebelling and shouting some more.

The silence returned, this time voluntary and with no harm to be done. Peace was a goal for them, a mutual understanding and deal that it was much better than having to argue. Maybe Jean was used to picking fights, or maybe he was cautious of Marco and wanted to test him out. His reasoning may have been a mystery, but his attempt to stop it was clear enough to confirm one of Marco’s suspicions: Jean was not as tough as he made himself out to be. He was undeniably grouchy, and yelling seemed more like a hobby than anything, but it was a facade of his, not his overall personality, and that made all the difference.

“How old are you, Jean?”

“Fifteen. My birthday was a couple months ago.”

“You had your birthday here?”

Jean shrugged. His palms were splayed flat on his stomach, and he drummed his fingers on his abdomen, probably to entertain himself. Marco doubted they shared the same exhaustion, especially with the orders to guard him. “It was a sorta birthday. I didn’t get a day off, but I got cake at least.”

“Mm.” Marco ran a hand over the rings again, letting the energy twirl up his arm once and settle back down. “I turn sixteen in two weeks.”

“Sounds like a personal—” The retort was shut down as quickly as it had been leaked, and Jean bit his lip to steady himself. He let out a long breath instead. “That sucks. That really sucks.”

It was not a lot, but it was enough for Marco to smile and settle in a full slumber. Jean was not very bad after all.


	2. Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco meets the guys in charge and a few faces that he has not seen the last of. Maybe it won't be so bad. But maybe he's lying to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years.
> 
> I promise next time I won't take this long to update. But hey, at least the chapter is good, right? Right?
> 
> Also, for poops and grins, Hanji is non-binary because what is gender am I right

When Marco woke up, Jean was gone, and the energy that had been pushing at every corner of his body for release was subdued to a dull presence. The rings around his wrists had remained, and they glowed and spun in a much calmer pattern this time. The glass that had been around him before was gone, replaced by warm air and freedom. A person he had not seen before was standing at the metal table, flipping through papers.

After a few minutes of silence and regaining his bearings, the person looked over at him and smiled. They were the picture of authority, tall and blond and pristine in a blue dress shirt and dark tie. The more noticeable, and unusual, features were the large eyebrows and the jerky movements of their right arm. A leveled cobalt stare kept Marco from moving, not even in the slightest flinch.

“I hope I didn’t disturb you,” he said. His tone was firm but enchanting, maintaining authority while keeping up with informalities. “I was reviewing your paperwork while waiting for you to wake up.”

Marco didn’t answer as he sat up, but he shook his head and looked around the room. The vent was still in place above him, and there were a few other tables lined up, but the long control panel on the wall behind him was a striking feature. Only some of the buttons were lit up; the screens hanging above them were black, save for one. It was too small to see for sure, but Marco assumed it showed his vitals.

The man shut the folder in front of him and stood up. Marco’s eyes flew to his right hand, which stiffly grabbed the file as he walked over. He could see in the proper light that the hand was metallic, made out of a non-organic material. It glinted in the fluorescent light above, fingers tightly gripping the manila folder.

“Erwin Smith,” he introduced himself, and he held out his left hand for Marco to take. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t meet in better circumstances, but it was for the better.”

Marco found his voice when he was back on two feet, even if intimidation threatened to choke his words back down his throat. “I didn’t know strapping someone down to a gurney and throwing them in a glass tube was a custom.”

Erwin smiled, but it lacked amusement. It was the type of expression worn by an exasperated father dealing with a troublesome child. “When you work in my position, you can’t do things normally. The Department for Research and Advancement of Human Behavior makes sure of that.” Before he could say anything else, Erwin placed a hand gently against his back and waved him forward. “Let’s walk and talk. I’ll try to answer as many questions as I can before we reach the central control room.”

Marco wondered how likely it would be to receive a punishment for resistance, but he decided against it and played along with Erwin’s offer. The chance for some answered questions was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. “Will you answer all of them?”

“It depends. Do you think an international organization focusing on human biology and supernatural changes to DNA could reveal top-secret information to its subject?”

Marco stopped walking at a flight of stairs he didn’t remember going down and glanced up at Erwin. Just staring at him made his palms sweat, but it was worth it to get some words out of him. “Uhh,” he tried to will the quiver in his voice down, “subject?”

The tall man grimaced but took it back quickly and replaced it with pressed lips and a hum. “Technically speaking. You’re under the surveillance and care of our department, but our roles extends to more than just guardians.” Erwin stepped down the few steps to be on leveled ground. “We are scientists first and foremost. We call ourselves the Wings of Freedom, and we believe that human life is a complex form of life that can easily change with an applied force strong enough to break into our DNA and rearrange it. Just as yours has done.”

Erwin ended the conversation with a turn and a walk up the flight of stairs; Marco followed after him this time, more out of motivation for answers than an actual urge to obey him. He waited until they entered a blue-gray hallway, reminding him of the corridors of a hospital, before he talked again. “So what happened to me?” He eyed the spinning bracelets on his wrists in disdain. “You said my DNA _changed_?”

“You don’t believe me?” Erwin inquired with a raised brow.

“I-I didn’t say that—”

“You didn’t have to.” He smiled down at him. “No one does, on their first day. I don’t blame you, though. Information about fluxes in DNA that bring superhuman ability isn’t very public.”

Marco wondered if this man was mad—he had to be. There was no other explanation for the way he was acting. Even with his claim that talking about DNA changes from outside forces wasn’t common knowledge, Erwin talked like it was everyday chatter for him. And perhaps it was, but he was normalizing it, and Marco was doing anything but that. The irony that Jean had been concerned for the same thing wasn’t lost on him—and brought him to a new topic to explore. “What happened to Je—”

Erwin’s quick turn and halt in the middle of the hallway had him stumbling over his feet. “I should have said this sooner. But all subjects are referred to by numbers.” He began to walk again, the relaxed gaunt back in his stride. “Subject 006 was with you yesterday. I dismissed him to the infirmary earlier this morning, since the mission to bring you here did a number on him, and he didn’t go when he was supposed to.”

“Does it have to do with that strap on his chest?”

The same smile as before: mysterious, elusive, bitingly charming. “I’ll let him tell you on his own.”

Fair enough, if confusing. Marco only hoped that Jean—006—would still want to talk to him. “So…if he’s 006, there are more before him.”

“They helped bring you here as well,” Erwin nodded. He paused to scan a plastic card at a sealed door to their right and brought them to an elevator. He pressed the top button and crossed his arms. “They weren’t responsible for guarding you, so they left to treat their injuries.”

“How were they hurt?”

Erwin didn’t answer his question. “You’ll be able to meet them soon. And for your sake, I advise you to get along with them as best you can.” He gazed down at Marco with a much more comforting expression. “They’re your teammates, after all.”

_Teammates._ A bit of a stretch, if Marco was thinking of his teammates as the people who had brought him there in the first place. But Erwin was supposedly in charge, and it was his word against Marco’s. For the time being, it was best to follow along.

“I think I should also warn you,” he continued, “that you’ll be meeting some of my coworkers.” The elevator doors opened up, and Erwin ushered him inside, pressing the button on the control panel for the third floor. “You’ll work with Levi the most, but the other two will be behind the scenes to monitor you.”

“Sounds like a lot,” Marco mumbled, leaning against the wall when the lift began to move.

“You have a special case.”

Marco didn’t respond after that, his stomach too tightly knotted to continue further. He had only seen two people who provided no help for him to properly explain his situation. His memory was still choppy, and there was a new energy in his body that tingled even when he wasn’t moving, an unwanted reminder of the circumstances he had been thrust into. At that moment, he wasn’t willing to put up an argument.

The elevator doors opened up to a wide lobby, and before Marco could step out, a hand was grabbing his shirt and hauling him forward. He yelped and tried to regain his bearings, and he found himself staring into large brown eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses.

“What does it feel like?” They whispered. “To have the most power we’ve ever seen inside your body—do you feel _powerful_?” The hand not holding onto his shirt held up his hand instead, the cyan light from his rings glowing in the reflection of their glasses. “Have you tried releasing any energy yet? Does your head hurt? How do your hands fe—ack!”

The person was yanked away, only to be replaced by a scowling, short man. “Don’t overwhelm him, Shitsight,” he scolded. “He might stain his pants.”

“Oh, he’ll be fine!” The eccentric person—Marco wasn’t sure what their gender was, or if they even had one—adjusted their ponytail with a small huff and a curving smile. “It’s nothing to the show he put on in the park.”

Despite the unsettling comment that churned his stomach, Erwin’s hand on his shoulder grounded him to reality. “007, this is Dr. Hanji Zoe, the head of scientific research. They were the one who located you.”

Hanji adjusted their glasses with a grin and bowed. “I’ll also be studying you for your new ability to find out what it does,” they chirped. “Thanks to that detoxing process that helped regulate the new energy in your body, I have something to work with while you settle down here.”

_So that’s what “detoxing” meant._ Marco nodded and offered a shy smile. Despite the frantic patterns of their speech or their wayward waving hands, Hanji seemed genuinely interested in the whole process and definitely willing to share information. Perhaps he could get more answers from them than from Erwin. “I’m glad it helped,” he said.

Instead of stopping and letting the second newcomer introduce himself, the scientist kept going. “I’ll also be monitoring your physical tests, which will give us more results than what we already have, and if we’re _really_ lucky, we can conduct some experiments on the side with the hypotheses I’ve been able to come up with, and then we can _really_ make some ma—”

The short man beside Hanji shoved them away and held out a hand. “Levi Ackerman, director of physical research,” he said. His handshake was firm and solid, and his overall presence was more intimidating than Erwin, just barely reaching Marco’s shoulders. “You’ll be working with me during your physical tests.”

“For _my_ research!” Hanji exclaimed. Levi only rolled his eyes.

“Aside from our other subjects, you’ll mostly be working with Levi,” Erwin explained. There was a hint of a light, almost mischievous, tilt to his voice. “He’s not as intimidating as he wants you to believe.”

Levi barely flinched at the teasing remark. “Mike is looking for you in the control center. He couldn’t come, because he needed your hand for something urgent.”

Marco looked up to see Erwin smile dryly. There was zero amusement in his features. “Are those his words exactly, or is it another one of your infamous reworded memos?”

Levi glanced at Erwin’s right arm with raised brows, as if he hadn’t thought of the implication until then. “It wasn’t supposed to be an insult. But the innuendo wasn’t discriminatory.”

That response seemed to be enough, for Erwin sighed and nodded. He looked down at Marco with a more casual smile. “I’ll have to leave now, but Levi and Hanji will show you to your room. We won’t be needing anything from you for a few days, so please try and make yourself as comfortable as you can here.”

“He means it, kid,” Levi said. “You won’t be leaving here for a long time.”

Marco gulped at the soft threat as Erwin nudged past Levi. Hanji sidled up next to the younger almost instantly with an exasperated sigh. “I swear, the sexual tension between three men,” they said. “It gets me every time.”

Levi snorted; “I’d barely call what we have ‘sexual tension.’ Only Zacharius can be attracted to those ugly sins he calls eyebrows.”

“You don’t fool me! I know what happened in the storage closet.”

The accusation left Levi standing in shock, grey eyes glaring Hanji down as the scientist threw an arm over Marco’s shoulder and started to walk. Marco kept in pace with them, trying not to look at the seething burn of a stare from his shorter superior.

“Do you mind if we make a little pitstop before heading to your room?” Hanji asked. They gently nudged Marco’s chin, almost in a type of parental affection. Marco shook his head, and Hanji squealed. “Perfect! I want you to meet your fellow coworkers—well, subjects, since you’re not paid to be here, but ‘subjects’ is so formal, don’t you agree?”

“It’s appropriate for their identities,” Levi stated. How he was able to catch up and keep up with Hanji’s fast pace, Marco could only assume came from years of practice and perseverance. Despite the sharp tone and biting words, Levi looked at Marco with a gentle gaze, far from warm but lacking malice. He probably sensed, or at least understood, the confusion wracking around in his head. “Even though our work is private, we aren’t going to take any risks. Unless you’re in a room with the other six subjects and the four executive members—”

“That’s me and Levi, and Erwin and his boy toy Mike,” Hanji piped in.

“—then we won’t use real names. We’ll use your subject identification number.”

“And that’s 007 for me,” Marco confirmed.

“Correct. You’ll learn the others once we get to the infirmary.”

“Is that where they are?” Hanji inquired. “I thought they had left already and gone to the educational wing.”

“Everyone else was; 006 is still there, last I heard. But Nifa only confirmed having 002, 003, and 004 with her.”

Hanji shook their head. “Ah, not again. I was hoping they wouldn’t start something now.”

Levi sighed and shut his eyes. “I tell you this every time. 005 will only listen to an order if it comes from me. He barely listens to anyone else.”

“Well, let’s hope for as little damage as possible.”

“That’s unlikely, but sure. Go ahead.”

Marco was too anxious to intervene in their conversation to ask for clarification, so he let them talk as they bounded down a flight of stairs to the second floor. They were still foreign figures, and professional ones on top of that. While he was sure they knew what they were talking about, he was still lost.

According to Hanji, the second floor was divided into multiple wings for separate interactions between the subjects and the other researchers at WOF. Aside from the training arena that was its own separate entity on the first floor, it was the most common place Marco would find himself spending his time. The infirmary was, according to Levi, more for a “just in case” purpose than a necessity, but Hanji used it when they got away with doing extra experiments.

“Sometimes, the experiments you’re funded for isn’t enough for the facts you need to find,” Hanji said.

“Cut the sage talk, dumbass,” Levi grumbled.

Hanji threw their hands in the air. “I’m just saying! Sometimes, my work carries into overtime.”

“It’s not supposed to.”

“That’s not my fault.”

Marco wondered if the duo had ever been compared to a married couple that had been together for years. Or maybe that was inappropriate to assume about their relationship. They definitely had the behavior of friends who had probably had to take care of the other when they forgot to do it themselves.

He would have asked more about where they were going, but a loud roar stopped the trio in their tracks. Marco felt the energy inside his body stir and curl at his fingertips without his control. Whatever had made that noise was not good. He knew the facility had labs; maybe a mutant experiment was on the loose. Or even worse, a monster from outside had wandered in. Did Erwin know? How would he find out if he was in the central control room?

Levi looked grim and pushed Marco behind him with a grimace. Hanji was teetering on their toes and swaying back and forth. Their eyes, wide behind their glasses, flicked between Levi and the hallway ahead of them. They didn’t say anything, but the shorter must have already guessed what they wanted to say, because he only shook his head.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” he warned, “you should stop it right now.”

“Oh, Levi,  _please_ , let me go,” Hanji begged. “006 always uses wild cats when he fights Eren, and he never repeats them! I wanna see what he chose this time!”

Marco was floored by Hanji’s plea. They couldn’t possibly be talking about Jean, could they? “What happened to 006?” He asked with growing concern.

“He’s fine,” Levi answered with a sigh. “We just aren’t able to take you to the infirmary right now.”

“He can still go!” Hanji exclaimed. Their hand reached out for his, but Levi slapped it away.

“ _No_. I forbid it.”

“Relax, dad, he won’t die!” This time, they succeeded in getting to his hand, and Marco was pulled past Levi and down the corridor. The shorter scientist went after them with explicites, and Marco could only hope he didn’t follow through with what he said.

Hanji barreled through the double doors of the infirmary with a hurried greeting to the receptionist. The younger struggled to keep his feet up as they scuttled down the hallway to their left. The rooms they passed were empty. The roaring of the wild animal was much more disturbing from inside the hospital wing, but Marco was amazed that they had heard it before they were even inside.

When they did stop, Marco had to look twice to make sure that what he was seeing was real and not conjured up by his imagination. Because there was no way a full-grown tiger could be in the room, pinning down a teenage boy and roaring in his face. The boy was unfamiliar to him, but Marco recognized the girl standing beside the bed, from her grey eyes and flaming scarf. When Hanji entered the room, the young girl eyed them with a glare.

“They started it,” she said. “I was supposed to look after 006 until he was better.” Their gaze wandered over to Marco, but didn’t stay for long.

“Well, you certainly did that,” Hanji giggled. “You can go to your lesson now. I can handle this.”

The girl didn’t move. Levi, panting quietly, appeared beside Marco and nudged them inside so he could shut the door. “Mikasa, you can leave,” he stated. His tone was firm, a confirmation that it was an order and not a suggestion. “We will handle it.”

Mikasa’s eyes narrowed at Levi’s entrance and didn’t falter. “I’m not going unless Eren is with me.”

“He’s fine!” Hanji assured, but the boy beneath the tiger—Eren—screamed.

“He bit my ass!” He exclaimed. One hand tried to push the tiger head away from him, but that only gave the wildcat the chance to engulf his hand. The fangs closed around the hand, but didn’t puncture his wrist. Judging by the sounds, and high-pitched reaction, it wasn’t any better. “He’s  _licking_ me!”

Levi shut his eyes with a long exhale, and he looked back at Mikasa. “If you insist on staying, then you can at least stop them.”

“I already tried,” Mikasa huffed. She sounded offended that he would even suggest that. “They didn’t listen.”

“Did you use fire on Jean? He listens to you.”

“Erwin said—”

“Not to do it when he’s around. And, if you haven’t noticed,” Levi waved his hand around them dismissively, “he’s not around.”

Mikasa faltered for a second, but she straightened up and pointed a finger at the tiger. From the tip sprang a single thread of fire that singed the nearest paw clasped over Eren’s shoulder. The tiger released the hand from his maw and howled instead, yellow teeth glistening and spit flying onto the boy’s face. Eren groaned in disgust and tried to wiggle his way out, but the cat stayed.

“Was that supposed to work?” Marco whispered to Hanji, who looked at him as if for the first time. They adjusted their glasses with a hum.

“Usually, Jean and Eren’s fights are ended by one of the other subjects intervening,” they explained. “So yes, it was.”

“But it’s _not_ ,” Eren grumbled. His head leaned back enough to stare up at Marco, pointing at him for good measure with a saliva-coated hand. “Make _him_ do something! Jean stayed up with him all night anyway. Maybe they bonded.” A disturbed rumble from the tiger had the other boy glaring back at him. “Oh, so _now_ you wanna act aloof, Mister ‘I’m scared of a powerful blue weirdo even though I laid down next to him and confided in him’?”

The tiger yowled in his face, a sound that made Marco cringe and Mikasa step back from the bed. Even Levi and Hanji flinched at the noise. Eren only shut his eyes at the second layer of spit that landed on his face.

“Jean’s mad that we left him alone with 007,” Mikasa said. Her stare returned to Marco once again, and he tried not to shuffle or even breathe under her gaze. She was just as intimidating as his hazy memory could recall. “Even though he was the only one required to stay there.”

“It wasn’t news for him,” Levi retorted with a snort.

“But he did get a beating,” Hanji added, a continuation of Levi’s statement. They patted Marco’s shoulder with a manic grin. “You were their toughest mission!”

His lack of memory and the overall eccentric behavior of this group only increased Marco’s uneasiness. Maybe when he knew more, things would be different, but for now, everything stayed foreign and unknown. He tried to smile at the scientist beside him, though he knew it was more for appearances. “I didn’t mean to make everything so hard,” he said, and he looked over at the tiger and Eren. If the animal truly was Jean, then he hoped he could hear and understand him. “But I appreciate you staying with me last night, Jean. You made me feel a lot better.”

Eren’s reaction was nothing short of mockery. He let out a loud bark of a laugh and jeered, “You must be a real asshole if you’re gonna make up lies like that.”

Marco shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not lying. I liked talking to him.”

The tiger blinked at him twice before a white light engulfed his body and began to reshape it. Eren slid off the bed as the light bent back and revealed Jean, slightly red in the face and head bowed. His ripped shirt had been replaced with a clean one, and his wrist was covered with bandages. The strap across his chest that held the glowing screen stayed.

Hanji had started to make a strange guttural sound, starting off as a hum and building into a squeal. Levi scoffed and nudged Marco with a sharp elbow.

“Congratulations,” he said. “You controlled the beast.”

“Shut up,” Jean mumbled, slumped into the pillow. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and huffed. “I didn’t want to taste lame shit anymore.”

“You’re lamer, horseface,” Eren glowered. Jean’s eyes were ablaze at the comment, and another fight might have broken out if Mikasa didn’t step between them and direct Eren towards the door.

“We’re going back to our lesson,” she said.

Hanji stepped aside to let them pass. “Say hi to Nifa for me!”

Eren gave Marco one last cautionary glare, but said nothing further. When the two were gone, Hanji bounded over and plopped down on the edge of Jean’s bed. Levi pulled up a chair and sat down. He gestured for Marco to come closer.

“So,” the scientist began, hands crossed in their lap, “what happened this time?”

Jean snorted and rubbed his nose. “Nothing happened. Eren’s a dick.”

“You say that _all_ the time, Jean, but you don’t always attack him.”

“That’s because he—” Jean stopped and eyed Marco, like he didn’t want to continue any further because of his presence. Marco started to back away, already planning on leaving, but Levi grabbed the end of his shirt and tugged him back.

“You have nowhere to go,” he said. “Jean can suck it up.”

The other boy didn’t like the sound of that, but he still continued. “He mentioned my power again, because I was the weakest out of everyone else at Jinae.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hanji chided. They reached over to grab his hand and hold it between theirs. “You’re not weaker than any of them!”

“This is the third time I’ve gone out with them, though, and he always says it!” Jean’s free hand clenched into the sheet. “I don’t have any cool power like they do. I can turn into animals—big fucking deal.”

“You let Eren get in your head,” Levi noted. “I should know, because I actually _see_ your results. You aren’t any weaker than any of them.”

“You have strengths in so many other ways,” Hanji praised. “After the Titan run-in two months ago, _you_ were the one who saved them. Remember?”

Jean’s head stayed bowed during the small speech, but he eventually sniffled and nodded in response. He wiped his nose with a defiant huff and a grumbled “whatever.” Hanji cooed quietly and pushed his bangs back to kiss his forehead.

“But he’s stronger than me,” Jean pointed out with a nod to Marco. “Eren said that, too—‘the new guy’s better than you.’”

“The new guy’s name is Marco,” Levi corrected. “And he’s stronger than all of you.” The thought made Jean look not as gloomy and at least stop glaring at Marco, something he relished in quietly.

Hanji looked over at their comrade with a faint smile. “Would you mind taking Marco up to his room?” They asked. They scooted closer to Jean so that they could pull him closer to them. “I want to stay here and talk with Jean.”

Levi nodded curtly and stood. He ushered Marco forward with a nudge towards the door. Marco looked over his shoulder one last time at Jean and found him burrowed into Hanji’s shoulder. His form trembled against them, but he was prevented from seeing any more as Levi began to walk.

“006 will be fine,” he said. “Lately, he's been the one who suffers from these bouts.” When they got to the entrance to the infirmary, Levi nodding to the receptionist, his shoulders slumped. He had definitely been down this road before. “Every time a new subject comes in, the other six have to compare themselves and scrutinize everyone else for not meeting up to the new standards.”

Marco frowned at that. The last thing he had wanted was to cause a problem, and on his first day no less. “I didn’t think I would be a bother to them,” he finally said.

Levi nearly whipped around at that, stopping them in the hallway. “It’s not your fault, kid. It has nothing to do with you. They’re just competitive shitheads.” He regained his composure and resumed walking to the elevator. “You’ll understand during your first training exercise that it has everything to do with them.”

When they got in the elevator, Levi scanned his I.D. onto a thin screen above the buttons, and the elevator proceeded to take them up. It brought them to a floor above the third that had no button. The doors opened and Levi led him through a narrow corridor. The first and only door on their right looked like a normal door, with a glass pane to look into a standard lounge area. The door at the end of the hall was heavy and bolted, and was clearly built for select individuals.

“The only ones with access to this floor are the four executive members and the other subjects,” he instructed. “Only your handprints and our IDs can get you in here.”

“What is ‘here’?” Marco asked.

“Your dormitory, I suppose. It’s where you’ll sleep and rest when you’re not working. I don’t care what you call it, as long as you can get to it.”

Levi scanned his ID at the small pad in the wall, a black box with a red button screwed in above it. The door slid into the wall and revealed a wide, circular seating area two steps down. Bean bag chairs and two couches were settled in the center, surrounding a coffee table and a clutter of books and papers. The mess on the floor and over the furniture could only come from teenagers who had better things to worry about than cleanliness. On the other side of the room were brown doors with bronze numbers, Marco figured for each subject. Six rooms were open; the other twelve were not. The seventh was cracked open a smidge.

“We don’t have fifteen subjects, but we chose it as our base number,” Levi informed him. He kicked aside a stray cup and a stuffed toy with a grunt of disgust. “There’s a second wing above the arena, but we haven’t spent as much time on it.”

“It looks cozy,” Marco offered. He eyed the room with “007” on it and wondered how limited he could be to decorating it. He had already been told, thanks to lack of subtlety, that his stay with the Wings of Freedom would be indefinite. At the very least, he should make the best of it while he could.

Levi groaned at his comment. “Good. You’re an optimist.” He glanced around the living area, his lip curled. “As long as you’re clean, I don’t care what you make of this place.”

Marco smiled at that, which only made his superior cringe. “I’ll make note of that.”

“Ugh. You’re lucky you’re still new. Otherwise, I would denounce the parent-kid act before you could blink. But Erwin says it’s too early. So…” Levi reached up awkwardly to pat his shoulder before he wiped his hand on his jacket and began to walk away. “You can rest for now. Hanji will get you when we’re ready.”

And with a dismissive wave and a slam of the door, Marco was alone.


	3. Testing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time. Marco addresses his fellow subjects and the animosity they hold towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maaaan this chapter is wild. We got Levi's squad, we got RBA, we got Marco trying to be a nice boy. Strap in, friends.

For the next three days, Marco spent time resting and reorganizing his room accordingly. There wasn’t a lot to work with, but he appreciated the teddy bear and the large quilt to help him feel like he had a homey space. He had some books on the desk against the wall, all fiction novels, and the double bed was comfortable for a science facility that called him a subject. Sometimes, if he was lucky, Marco could pick up the sounds of the other subjects outside, mostly laughing and chatting but sometimes jeering at one another. From what he could hear, Jean didn’t always play along with their jabs.

He enjoyed the solitude he had been given, wandering outside of his room for meals and an occasional call from Erwin and Levi to review a planned training session, just for “reviewing purposes.” He didn’t explore the facility, mostly out of fear of trespassing and the fact that he had no idea what he was doing. He felt like a child, lost and forced into a shell that felt uncomfortable and unfit for his age.

In regards to his new-found ability, Marco found himself hesitantly using it. It never got out of hand—just a simple stretch of his hand to expand and deflate a ball of energy. It glowed in the same cyan as the rings on his wrists, and his hands became engulfed with the light. Just like his first night at the facility, he tied and untied his shoes, and if he was feeling adventurous, he dragged the covers up over his body at night. It was all alien to him, energy tingling in his fingers while his mind willed the object to move. He never went outside of his boundaries, not wanting to push it and accidentally do something wrong.

It was on his fourth day there, just waking up from a comfortable slumber, when he heard soft knocking at his door. Marco took a moment to stretch and yawn before he got out of bed to answer it. The knocking returned, more persistent this time, and with a huff he hurried and opened the door with a swing. Jean stood on the other side, fully dressed and averting his eyes.

“The execs need you at the arena,” he said.

Marco had no response, completely taken aback by his presence. He blinked and stared at the other boy, who was gritting his teeth and crossing his arms. His fists grappled onto his biceps as if he was trying to control himself.

When there was no response, Jean finally made eye contact with him in a glare. “Hello! Earth to planet psycho!”

Marco frowned at the insult, snapped out of his daze. “I thought Hanji was going to come get me.”

“Well, they’re busy, so you’re stuck with me.” He eyed him up and down with a scoff. “Just get dressed already.”

As upsetting as the insult was, Marco knew he had little choice or say in the matter. He shut the door and put on some clothes, and when he returned to the living space, Jean was standing at the exit. Even though the two of them had shared some sort of moment just a few days ago, it was clear that Jean wasn’t going to dwell on whatever nice feeling had supposedly settled. Marco wasn’t sure how to feel about that quite yet.

“Why are we going to the arena?” He asked. Jean kept his eyes forward and pressed a button on a black box near the door. The door swished open, and the shorter began to walk forward.

“Try and keep up,” he demanded. “I’m not waiting for you.”

Marco hurried to stay behind Jean, keeping a small amount of space between them. When they reached the elevator at the end of the hall, he made sure to stay a safe distance away from his estranged companion. Jean pressed the first floor button, and they began to descend.

The silence, however, was stifling. Marco supposed it was because of a lack of familiarity and not knowing what to say, but even he found it hard to talk to Jean. Conversations were normally easier for him to initiate. What made it so hard to converse with him?

“So…” he started quietly, “is this for my training?”

Jean glanced over at him and shrugged. No verbal response.

“Did you go through the same thing?”

Another shrug and more silence. It was like pulling teeth. Marco leaned against the wall and sighed. If Jean didn’t want to interact with him, then he was going to take the hint and not push him any further. 

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open, Jean walking out first and Marco thankful to be out of the uncomfortable setting. He stayed quiet and weaved through a twisting hallway to a pair of heavy metal doors. A similar black box as seen in the suite area was on the wall, and Jean pressed the button. The box crackled to life almost instantly.

“ _Who is it?_ ” A clear voice asked.

“It’s me,” Jean replied.

“ _Mmm, no one named ‘me’ works here. Can you state your full name please?_ ”

Jean growled and smacked the speaker. “Open the door, Eld, you know it’s me!”

A joyful laugh echoed out from the speaker as the doors slid open. On the other side, a tall blond leaning against the wall was smirking at Jean. “It’s protocol, _seis_. Not everyone has access down here.”

“I told you I’d be right back.” Jean shoved past him and vanished around the corner.

The taller man, Eld, snorted and looked over at Marco. “I hope he didn’t give you any trouble. He makes a habit of annoying the innocent.”

Marco shook his head, trying to smile in reassurance. “Oh, no, he didn’t bother me.”

Thin eyebrows raised as a small smirk appeared. “Then you must be pretty damn special.” He held out a hand to shake. “Eld Jinn, second-in-command of Levi’s team. I’m the one who shows him whether or not you’re fit for training.”

“Sounds important.” Eld ushered him forward, leading him through a small hallway and around the corner. “But I don’t know how you can determine that when I haven’t done that much.”

“Well, that’s why we brought you here today,” Eld clarified. “You’ll go through some preliminary exercises with the other subjects so we can apply the necessary calculations and get a better sense on what you need.” His expression faltered as he stopped between two doors. “Ah, shit…right.” He turned back to Marco with a frown. “Our computer program is slow to start up today, because of our new software, so you’ll have to wait in the locker room before you come in.”

“That’s okay,” Marco said. “I don’t mind waiting.”

Eld smiled and chuckled softly. “You’re nice, kid.” He nodded to the first door; “The locker room is right behind you. We’ll send someone in to get you when we’re ready.”

With a nod, and a pat from the taller, Marco entered the locker room. A pair of benches were lined up the middle of the room, with enough space between them. Against the wall to his right were single lockers, some opened but mostly empty. The left wall was occupied by hangers screwed into the wall and tables covered with clutter. It reminded Marco a little bit of locker rooms at school, more so from the gross sweat smell and the worn tile floors with shoe scraps and dirt prints.

Marco wasn’t alone in the room; three figures were standing at the lockers, one noticeably shorter than the other two. They turned to look at him when he entered and kept their gazes on him even when he shuffled over to one of the benches. Before he could sit down, one of them walked over to him.

“No one thought you would show up,” he said with a small smirk, arms crossed in front of his chest. He was taller than Marco and much broader, and he was covered in a layer of dirt, making his entire appearance, including his blond hair, completely grimy.

“I have to, don’t I?” Marco inquired. He was afraid of moving even an inch in any direction, despite the other’s hearty tone of voice.

The taller shrugged. “After the stunt you pulled, we expected you to bolt out of here at the first chance.”

Marco bit his lip. The anxious pang in his chest prevented any words from coming out. He was under the impression that the orders from Jean were coming from a higher authority such as Hanji or Levi. And from what he had learned, he had no choice but to stay under the strange form of care that the Wings of Freedom provided. What was he to do otherwise?

When he received no answer, the dirt-covered boy leaned forward and caught his gaze. “So? Why are you here?”

The other two people in the room were standing in the background, watching the scene intently. Maybe they couldn’t help the expressionless stares, but it was still an unsettling sight. “I-I was told to come here. Jean said the execs needed me.”

“You believed him?”

“Was I not to supposed t—”

“What type of stunt are you trying to pull?” The bond boy stepped forward so that he towered over Marco and caused him to stumble against the bench. “This innocent trick of yours isn’t funny.”

“What trick?!” Marco tried to stand up straight, but he only ended up bumping into the taller.

“No one can be that powerful on their first day just out of luck.”

Marco slid out to the side and put some distance between him and the other boy. When the blond stepped forward towards him, he was stopped by a cyan blue shield. Marco eyed his hands to find them glowing brightly as the cyan ringlets spun rapidly. He must have set up the shield, though he wasn’t sure how he had managed to form it in the first place.

The boy glowered at the sudden obstacle and tapped on the shield. “Explain this.”

“I can’t.” He gave a hardened stare to the taller in hopes that he understood the severity of his situation. His behavior was not a joke. He had no idea how he controlled the swirling energy inside of his body nor did he understand how he received it in the first place. “I don’t know how I’m doing any of this.”

“It’s not worth fighting over,” came a female voice. Marco looked over at the shorter person at the opposite wall. She walked over to step beside the taller blond and nudged him. “We’ll find out soon whether he’s telling the truth.”

The taller looked over from the girl to the lone figure. It was only now that Marco noted the tallest figure had unusual, deep blue hair. His eyes were the type of green found at hidden forest ponds, lush and lively yet withdrawn and mysterious to an unfamiliar presence. He gave a small nod, barely noticeable, to his friends. The gesture, paired with the girl’s words, must have been convincing enough, because before he knew it, he was receiving a smile from the tall blond.

“Sorry,” he said. “Guess I shouldn’t assume things, huh?”

Marco didn’t reply. The girl pulled the boy back to their mutual friend, their backs turned to him as they started a hushed conversation. It was hard to understand what they were saying, though he had little time to comprehend it as a body suddenly materialized beside him. Marco jumped when he recognized them as Jean.

“Levi wants you,” he said flatly. He said nothing else as he nudged past him and dug through one of the lockers. The other subjects chatted with him as he did.

As he exited the locker room, Marco found Levi standing outside of the control room with a short redhead. She was a slight inch shorter than her boss, but her personality was a bit friendlier. When she saw Marco, she smiled in greeting and held out a hand for him to shake.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, 007,” she said. “You can call me Petra. I work with Eld to calculate your stats.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” he smiled, looking between the two. “Are we ready to start?”

“We’re getting there,” Levi guided them into the control room and shut the door behind them. The far wall was aligned with two large monitors situated in the corners, to allow a looking space into a large arena-like area, and a control panel headed by two figures in swivel chairs. “Auruo and Gunther are working as fast as they can.”

The duo turned at their names: Gunther with a nod and wave, Auruo with a snort and eyeroll. “It wouldn’t have messed up in the first place if someone didn’t fuck it up,” the latter said.

Petra scoffed at him. “It’s insulting to think that would upset me,” she shot back. “You were the one who didn’t follow instructions.”

Levi interrupted whatever response Auruo was firing back. “I would hope that my team behaves in front of a new subject and won’t embarrass me or themselves.” The room fell silent as the four team members worked. Levi looked at Marco and rolled his eyes, earning a quiet laugh. “Give me an update on the software problem.”

“The faulty files have been deleted completely, and the software has been cleaned,” Gunther replied. “We replicated 002’s stats to check and they were perfect pairs.”

“Good.” Levi pressed a button on the bluetooth in his ear and spoke to it. “We’re ready when you are, Four Eyes.”

“There’s only one problem I noticed,” Eld mused. He and Petra were seated at a table in the back corner that was completely covered in papers. A pencil had found its way behind his ear while he tapped one against the tabletop. “The subjects have been acting strange whenever 007 is mentioned. Usually, they’re willing to work with someone new, but they haven’t shown that yet.”

“It might be because of 006,” Petra offered. “He lashed out when we caught him, and he had to tire himself out in order to pass out and be transported.”

Levi grimaced at the mention, his shoulders tense. “That could very well be the case.” He turned back to Marco with a regained composure. “For now, I want you to focus on what the subjects do while they warm up. You’ll need to watch them so you can understand what to do when your time comes. We’ll worry about their behavior.”

Despite the wave of queasiness, Marco nodded. From the space between the two monitors, in the arena, a tan ball rolled into the middle of the room and unraveled. It turned around to look towards the direction it had come from before it gave a running start and curled into a ball once again. Suddenly, a large gust of water splashed over the ball and raised it. Instantly, the ball erupted in a ball of light and reformed into a turtle that swam through the churning waves. At the base of the water stream, ice crystals began to form and rise up. The turtle swerved back to the surface and changed form once again to a seal, landing on a curved ice slab and sliding off to the arena floor.

“They’re not going through their usual routine,” Petra observed. The seal flicked his tail up and knocked back ice chips that spun towards him. When fire spheres jumped towards him, he switched back to an armadillo and let the flames hit his shell. “006 is usually hesitant to perform first.”

Levi hummed quietly. When the ground rumbled briefly beneath them, the armadillo landed and transformed into an eagle. He rose above the ground with a few large flaps of his wings.

“Should we send in 007?” Petra asked. Almost instantly, she received a response.

“It’s early.”

“Maybe, but from what I gathered talking to 005 yesterday, it sounded like he was planning on not participating until 007 entered.”

“Did he say why?” Eld asked.

Petra frowned, “I mean, it seemed pretty obvious to me. None of them are happy with 007.”

Levi was silent in thought before he glanced over his shoulder. “Do you think they’re ready to face off against one another?” A large burst of fire flicked upward and slapped at the glass. Marco, alarmed, took a step back, but the flames splashed against the surface and were extinguished by another wave of water. When it relaxed and diminished, the other subjects were standing close together in a cluster. A few minutes with by, and they failed to move from their assumed positions.

With a long sigh and a rub of his temple, Levi returned to the bluetooth’s communications. “Smith, we’re sending 007 in now.” He turned around and paused mid-step. “As their personal trainer, I can, and I am.” Levi led the subject out of the control room. “We can communicate with you in the arena, but you won’t be able to communicate with us. Your door to the arena is in the locker room. Good luck.” He slammed the door before a response could be made.

Left on his own, Marco crossed through the locker room and to the door at the opposite end of the wall. It looked heavier, most likely to accommodate for any blows that might come its way. It sent a shiver down his spine, at the sudden remembrance that he was going into an arena and forced to battle the other subjects, half of whom he didn’t even know the names of. Perhaps he could get out of this one with some persuasion. He had zero recollections of anything, and he had no idea what he was doing. That should be enough to gather some pity.

Pity was too close to the word petty. But for right now, it would have to do.

With a final gathering of his thoughts, Maroc pushed the door open and closed it as silently as he could. The remnants of a fight echoed around the arena, cut off as soon as he entered. Six pairs of eyes were trained on him immediately.

“What are you doing here?” The blonde female asked.

“Levi sent me in early,” he replied. He noticed Eren smirking out of the corner of his eye. “He cut your warm-up short, because it looked like you were ready for me.”

“Oh, we’re ready, alright,” Eren sneered. Although he was one of the furthest from Marco, he was in front of him with a single blink, forcing him back in shock. “The ‘dumb and innocent’ trick isn’t gonna work on us anymore.”

Marco frowned at the accusation; “I’m not pulling any tricks.”

“Give us one reason for why we should believe you,” the dirty blond demanded.

It was the perfect opportunity to propose his peace. Maybe they would remember what it felt like to be in his place. It was his only option if he was not prepared to face off against them. “Because I don’t know what this power is or what it does. The power I have is completely foreign to me, and I barely know how to use it.” The last comment earned him eyerolls or amused snorts. “I-it’s true! It’s all an accident! Who would intentionally overpower someone that’s just trying to do their job?”

“I’ve done it before,” Mikasa said with a side glance at the tiny blonde. “Fire’s stronger than a lot of things.”

The girl caught the reference, for she turned coolly and stated in an equally biting tone, “Water can extinguish fire without a problem.”

“Water can also boil.”

“Aww, come on, let’s not fight in front of the kid,” the taller blond jibed, and he swung an arm around Marco’s shoulder. The gesture, with a sharp squeeze to his arm, was hardly friendly. “Remember? Everything he did was an accident.”

“Don’t tease him, Reiner,” the blue-haired boy chided. Although he was the quiet one of the group, as told by his lack of interactions, his words had a clear effect on Reiner, the earth-looking boy.

“I’m not teasing him. He said it himself.” He backed away from Marco to stand in front of him. “He has no idea what he’s doing.”

Marco didn’t understand the point he was trying to make until he felt the ground shift beneath his feet and found himself being propelled backwards. His back collided with the wall harshly, and he slid down to the floor with a pained grunt. Revealing his lack of information had not only failed to change their minds, but it allowed the others a chance to test him without him lashing out.

“What the hell, Reiner?!” Eren shouted. He moved with unrivaled quickness, nothing but a blur, but he collided with a shield. Marco hadn’t expected it to erect itself once again, but he supposed that his powers were truly out of his control at that point.

Reiner tugged a sledgehammer from a sheath on his back and slammed it against the shield. The force of the hammer sent a tremor through Marco’s head, and he dropped his line of defense before he could even understand what he was doing.

The blue-haired boy came up behind him again and tugged on the hammer, pulling it out of his hands. “We’re not here to hurt him,” he said. “Do you remember what Moblit said?”

“Moblit was useless,” the blonde girl grunted. “All he told us to do was help the kid out. What do we do with that?”

“I’m not trying to hurt him, Bert,” Reiner argued, reaching for his hammer. The other boy held it out of reach. “I’m doing exactly what I was told to do.”

“You’re taking advantage of a situation by deliberately hurting someone,” he challenged. He looked over at Marco, a flash of what he hoped was understanding in his eyes. “That’s not what we’re supposed to do.”

“He knows what he’s getting himself into,” Mikasa said, and she raised her hand. In a matter of seconds, her scarf unfurled and tiny pieces of flames shot out. The others were quick enough to dodge them, but Marco, in a sudden break of realization, held his hand out in front of him and hoped he wasn’t about to come into contact with searing flames.

The fire stopped right in front of him. Encompassed by the familiar cyan glow, the tiny crimson spears danced within his reach but not on his person. He had not only prevented their attack, but he did it on a whim. With a single raising of his hand and a determined will to _not let that fire go_ , he remained unharmed. The small victory brought a genuine smile to his face, though it vanished as soon as his eyes wandered up to the other subjects.

Mikasa was dumbfounded, her frayed scarf dancing around her neck as if it wasn’t sure how to fit back together. Reiner was reaching for his hammer once again, but Bert was trying to keep it far from his grasp. The remaining subjects simply gawked at him with wide eyes, stunned speechless. Marco had to remind himself that they were just as confused about him as he was, and their reactions to his performance were genuine.

Wondering what else he could do, while no threats were posed to him, Marco closed his fist. The fire evaporated as soon as he did. The glow vanished with the frozen fire, although the rings on his wrists stayed at a rapid spin. By now, he had figured out that they spun when in use, but he was on edge and prepared to protect himself, even if it was on autopilot.

The first to break out of their stupor was Eren, whose brows furrowed in thought before he blurred again. Marco could barely react to the speed before he was being shucked over a shoulder. He became suddenly closer to the subjects than he recalled, and they moved past him as he was jostled back and forth.

“Reiner, make a platform for me,” he demanded. Reiner, shaken out of his daze, fulfilled the request despite the questioning expression. A flat piece of earth materialized above the metal floor, and Eren stepped on it. “Raise it.”

“What are you trying to do?” The short blonde wondered as he rose. Heights had never bothered Marco, but the sudden explanation sent an unpleasant shock down his spine.

“If he can stop fire and make shields when he’s threatened, then he can definitely levitate.”

“Okay, now you’re really gonna hurt him,” Jean remarked. The two girls beside him were at a loss for words; even Reiner and Bert ceased in their bickering to look up at him. “You don’t just throw someone from a high place and hope they fly.”

Eren scoffed; “What, just because _you_ did it differently means that _everyone_ does it your way?”

“That’s not what he’s saying,” Mikasa said. Her tone had turned severe quickly. “Proving that he knows everything is one thing, but throwing him from there is another.”

“ _005,_ ” came Levi’s voice from the speakers, “ _I want to remind you that 007 has no prior training to his arrival here and no memory of receiving his ability. If you are testing his flight capabilities, there is a high chance he does not remember them yet._ ”

Marco tried to turn and see where the control room was, but he was too disoriented to focus. If he had flown, like they were saying, he had no idea how he was going to use that knowledge and make it possible. Not to mention that Eren’s actions weren’t exactly condemned.

“You know this is the only way to find out if you’re lying or not, right?” Eren mumbled, head turned slightly towards him.

Marco grimaced, “Or you can just listen to me and believe what I’m saying.”

“Pff.” He rolled his eyes and smirked. “Words aren’t concrete.” And with a small step back, a wound-up swing, and yelling from below, Eren tossed Marco out of his hands and down below.

He waited for the dull impact, the clang of metal against skin and the ache and crush of gravity. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth in preparation for what was about to come. He didn’t land on the ground. Nothing happened. And when he opened his eyes for proof, Marco found his body halfway to the ground from the high distance, glowing and levitating above the crowd below. They must have been ready to catch him, though now they were anything but prepared.

The crash from behind, the crumble of dirt and a grunt from Eren, startled him just enough to continue his descent. The other subjects moved out of the way so that he fell in the middle of their formed circle. Marco was barely able to stop himself again, inches from the ground, before he fell flat once again. Whatever energy had decided to wind up inside his body had been lulled to a slumber. The rings were slow to turn around his wrists. A throb appeared at his temple as the beginning of exhaustion tugged at his body.

“Is that enough proof?”

Not yet.

Marco pushed himself into a sitting position and stared up at the subjects. All six of them surrounded him, with little room between them to provide an escape. If he knew how to fly on command, and if he was more confident in using his ability, he would try to escape up. But the thought of trying was tiring enough.

“So let’s get some things straight,” Reiner mused. “You say you can’t remember anything, but when your life depends on it, you can use your power properly. And you want us to believe that you have no idea what you’re doing, but when you’re put on the spot, you do the opposite. It’s almost like you can’t decide what persona to play.”

“I really do have no idea what I’m doing,” Marco sighed. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“You’re in control every time you use your power,” the other blonde said knowingly.

“That’s not me!”

“You’re the only one with the psychic-based power,” Mikasa pointed out.

Marco looked up at Bert, but even he seemed at a loss for words. He bowed his head and hid his gaze behind blue bangs.

“If it’s not you,” Jean proposed slowly, gathering his attention, “then what’s activating your power?”

“He can’t answer that,” Eren sneered. “No one can.”

Jean glowered at him. “I’m just trying to understand—”

Reiner cut him off; “There’s nothing to understand. Everyone here already gets it—he’s a fake.”

“Reiner,” Bert sighed beside him, in what sounded like disappointment. Reiner flinched and turned away.

“So what do we do with him?” The short girl asked. “I don’t wanna work with him.”

“Me neither,” Mikasa piped in, despite the disgusted groan from the girl beside her. “I don’t feel comfortable.”

“No one does,” Reiner assured.

“Maybe we can throw him to a Titan?” Eren offered. The suggestion went without protest. Marco thought he heard Jean start to speak, but if he had anything to say, it died down.

Marco had stayed silent through their conversation about him. He had tried to work with them, to talk through the problem and find some solution. Even using his power, like they wanted, was not enough to satisfy. Their last resort was giving him away, as if he was unworthy of their time. They hardly gave him a chance.

After everything he had been through, he had hoped for someone to understand. Torn away from his family, nearly sixteen, taken over by an alien power that warped his entire world. Who knew when he would go outside, if he was even allowed? Even then, could he leave the facility? He was owned by a branch of the government that no one knew about, a branch that specialized in researching changes to a human’s DNA. And either no one had gone through the same whirlwind, which seemed unlikely, or they were all heartless, which was the more plausible answer.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and then everything was white. Out of nowhere, Marco felt the energy in his body evaporate, expelled by his thoughts and released around him. If he hit anyone, if he destroyed the facility, if anything happened as a result of his actions, he was unaware of it. There was nothing but a blissful float along his subconscious. There was peace. If he tried hard enough, he could see his sister, laughing as she toyed with those shiny magnetic rocks that amazed her so much. Her laugh was her only sound, and it was the most beautiful melody he had ever heard. If he squinted, he could see his parents thanking him for being such a good brother, such a lovely boy, always trying his best and achieving it—

And then everything returned. The bliss shattered and lodged its sharpest shards into his head at every possible angle. All around, his body ached and throbbed and begged to never move again. Marco opened his eyes to find himself alone, lying on his stomach. No shoes or bodies were in his sight, though he heard distant voices. He glanced at his hand to watch the ringlet, dimly glowing and twitching. 

“—to think you would abandon a kid while he is in the same shoes you wore when we saved you—I mean, fuck, how bratty and _horrible_ do you have to be—”

A pair of shoes entered his vision before being replaced by knees and then a pair of arms. The hands turned him gently onto his back, moving him slowly. He grunted at the water bottle that nudged at his lips, but he sipped the cold liquid down regardless. Either way, his legs and arms felt boneless.

“—hope you’re all ashamed of yourselves, I especially hope you’re all ready for harsh sessions, because I refuse to let the e-board tolerate your behavior without repercussions—”

“How is he?” A soft voice whispered somewhere behind him. Marco recognized it as the woman from the control room. Pet-a-tree or something.

“Practically unconscious,” answered the body he leaned against. It sounded like Elf. That was his name.

“Hmm. So he used up all his energy again.”

“Looks like it. It’s pretty extreme this time, though. He’ll have to sleep for the rest of the day in order to gather some type of life back.”

“Damn.” Pet-a-tree touched his forehead, perhaps to brush away bangs. Marco tried to lean into it, cool and present, but the turn of his back jabbed more pain through him, and he grunted. “Hey now, don’t strain yourself. You’re okay.”

“Just rest, kid,” Elf whispered softly to him—or was it Elk? “You need it.”

A moment later, the one in charge—Levee was definitely his name—suddenly appeared. “Both of you need to lead those fucking assholes somewhere else,” he instructed. “Keep them _away_ from Hanji—Auruo and Gunther are handling them, but you need to get those fucking brats out of here. He needs to rest.”

One of the subjects’ voice appeared—this one was the most familiar, one that once said nice things but did little for him when it mattered. His name was a fancy way to say John. “Levi, I can bring him to the rooms—”

“If any of you come near him, I will take your idea and feed _you_ to naked monsters.” Marco whined as his body was jostled for a moment and resettled against a firm chest. Levee sounded much closer than before. “You’ve done enough damage.”

“It wasn’t our fault,” a girl, blonde and icy, protested.

Marco raised his head off of Levee’s shoulder, wheezing out a breath. “You’re in control…” he exhaled, “every time…you use your power…” He fell back, throat scratchy and head swimming. There were no other words as he was carried out of the arena, borderline lifeless and drained of every stitch of energy in his body. Levee reassured him with every step of rest and peace, fulfilling hopes of finding bliss once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Quick note that Levee, Elf/Elk, and Pet-a-tree are in fact Levi, Eld, and Petra. Marco was just out of it lmao oops


	4. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friends. New discoveries. New secrets. Marco tries to understand everything, but he doubts his sanity will stay to find out the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated in an actual timely matter oh boy
> 
> I promise though this is the last chapter of exposition and then everyone can be friends :') For now, some pretty Reibert and battling Erejean bc why not

Marco had fallen asleep as soon as he left the arena with Levi, his body finally giving up and surrendering to his mind’s order to sleep. It wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter, since he had no remaining energy to move his body and he was being escorted (read: carried) by an exec. But it seemed too degrading to show how weak he was, that he couldn’t even handle his own power. Sleeping was the better option.

When he finally awoke, his body was still sore and only somewhat rested. Stretching found all the spots that screamed at any movement—from his back, following his entire spine, to the tips of his fingers. He was already planning on going back to sleep when his stomach growled. Although he lost track of time, he knew it had been a while since he had eaten. Did he even have anything to eat before his first test?

Marco took his time to stand and slip on the slippers at the foot of his bed. He moved his arm slight enough to catch a whiff of a stench. A shower was not a bad idea either, though he would have to leave his floor for that. Perhaps he could try and catch one after eating.

There were quiet murmurs outside of the room, but he paid no attention to the words being said until he opened the door and took a few steps forward. Instantly, he realized the mistake he had made. All six subjects were in the lounge area, and their gazes whipped to him when he emerged. Just looking at him was enough to freeze Marco in place.

Aside from the turn of their heads to look at him, they made no movement. Their faces were expressionless plains, revealing no reaction to his presence or what they were talking about before he entered. Marco wished his legs would move so he could get away, but he stayed put. He found himself pleading for a reaction that gave away something—how they saw him now, how they felt about his burst of energy, regardless of how fierce or tame it was. He wanted—needed—a reaction.

Mikasa was the only one to move, standing up from her place on the couch. She lifted a tray full of food, still steaming, from the coffee table and walked over to him. She stopped in front of Marco and held it out to him.

“We brought you dinner,” she said in a soft voice. The flames of her scarf were slow, moving between each other instead of out and around.

“Thank you,” he smiled, and he gingerly took the tray. Warm fingertips brushed against his, making her flinch back. Her eyes, smokey gray and wide, watched him critically for anything out of the ordinary. She wasn’t afraid of him, though she wasn’t prepared to fight either.

Without any further advancement from anyone, Marco turned back around and headed for his room. The shower could wait until after dinner; hopefully, there would be no one left to scuttle around. Before he left the room, however, he could have sworn he saw some type of emotion on Jean’s face. He had fidgeted during the exchange with Mikasa, and though his head stayed bowed, he watched anxiously. For a split second, Marco believed, there had been a heightened urge to speak, but it vanished with little hesitation.

The meal on the tray was akin to a Thanksgiving feast: carved turkey slices with gravy dribbled on top, mashed potatoes and green beans, cornbread sliced in half and buttered. A glass of what tasted like cider was in a clear glass. It was the best thing he had eaten in a long while, though that may have been due to his lack of feeding himself in the past hours. His hunger was sated regardless, leaving a warm feeling in his belly that lulled him back to sleep.

Marco had dreamed very little ever since he had arrived at WOF, but after satisfying his stomach and curling under the blankets, vivid images flashed in front of him. The six other subjects had surrounded him, though they kept their distance and were staring up at him. Mikasa and the blonde girl were poised and ready to attack, hands flickering with fire and ice respectively. Eren was knelt down on the ground beside Jean, who was clutching his bicep. The fabric of his shirt hung over his fingers in strips, as if he had been scratched. They opened their mouths to speak to one another, in what might have been commands or advice, but their words were garbled, nonsense to his ears.

Everything moved quickly in a flash, and in a second, the other subjects were moving. A wooden staff and a throwing knife floated in front of him, held up by the cyan light of his ability. The blonde girl was on the ground beside the one called Reiner; both struggled to stand back up. Marco felt a firm force push against his arm, as if it was trying to escape. When he looked down, he found Jean’s wrist caught in his hand, and Jean himself glaring at him past a pained grimace.

“You’re not allowed near her.”

The words were his own. He said them out of his control, but he felt his lips form each syllable, even if he couldn’t hear the pronunciations.

Marco awoke with a start, hands tangling in the bedsheets to steady himself. He remembered where he was thanks to his surroundings and the rings around his wrists, spinning and glowing bright. The remnants of his dream—or, perhaps, the more-than-a-dream—that he could remember haunted him. It was too vivid to be just a dream.

Slowly, with reminders in his limbs of his training session yesterday, Marco got out of bed and stepped into his slippers. Once again, he would have to take a shower, a task he had forgotten to do yesterday, before he found food. Hopefully, the other subjects were out and not around. And if they were, Marco promised himself to engage in conversation if they started it. He would not be the one to make the first move.

Unfortunately, the wishing failed to do any good. He opened his door and found Jean and the one he recalled as Bert, talking in soft tones. They turned to look at him, standing in his doorway and hesitant to step towards them. Even with a meal brought to him courtesy of Mikasa, the explosion of power yesterday was still on his mind to accompany the worry of what they thought of him.

Bert offered a small smile at him, standing behind the couch Jean was curled up on. “Good morning,” he said. Marco remembered how forward he was in preventing the others from doing anything terrible, though in his first interaction with him away from the arena, he was much softer. “Did you sleep well?”

Marco nodded, returning the smile himself and stepping outside of his room. “I did.” He refused to talk about his dream with them.

When he spoke, Jean looked away and returned to the book resting on his perched knees. It almost appeared as if he was trying to burrow further into the corner of the couch. Bert, on the other hand, leaned against the couch’s back. “That’s good. I remember how hard it was to sleep when I first got here.” He bit his lip, scuffing his feet before continuing. “And I hope you liked your dinner, too. We put in a special order.”

“Oh, thank you.” The thought of having an order made, just for him, confused him. Weren’t they supposed to hate him? “It tasted really good. But you didn’t have to do that.”

“After what happened yesterday, it seemed fitting.” Bert bowed his head, grimacing. “I’m very sorry for the way we treated you. We were horrible.”

Marco wanted to agree, but the other boy had grouped the other subjects into one. They weren’t all bad; Jean tried to protest, at least, and Bert himself had made some effort. “You didn’t do anything.”

Bert glanced up at him. His eyes, lush forest green, revealed a quiet sorrow and a wave of guilt. “Exactly.”

Marco didn’t respond. He couldn’t find the words to, even if he had tried. This lanky boy, with strange blue hair and bright eyes that hid deep secrets, was accepting responsibility for his lack of action. Although he addressed it, whether Marco agreed to it or not, owning up to mistakes was partial. He was one person, after all, who could only speak for himself. The other subjects would have to make the same move.

With a small jump, the tall boy stepped forward cautiously and reached out a hand. His palm was cool, almost damp, and his fingers were bony. “I’m Bertholdt, by the way. Sorry I couldn’t introduce myself yesterday.”

“At least we can do it now,” he offered. “I’m Marco.”

Bertholdt nodded and wrung his hands. He glanced up at something over Marco’s shoulder for a brief moment, but brought his gaze back just as quickly. “So, you, ah…you might get your results from your training back today.”

“How do you know?”

“Hanji works a lot and is really dedicated to their job. They’ve gotten all of our results back within a couple days. Eren’s was on the same day.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” came a clear voice, and Marco looked over to see Eren collapse on the opposite couch. Jean glared at him but stayed silent. Mikasa stood in the doorway to her room; her scarf was gone, the flames having traveled to her hair. They weaved themselves between dark locks and stayed equally tame.

“Annie and Reiner went to get breakfast,” she informed Bertholdt. She glanced at Jean for a brief second. “Wagner told me last night he’ll make omelets to order.”

“I thought I told you I was fine,” Jean murmured.

Mikasa was quick to respond, “I can read right through your passive-aggressive answers. Don’t try to play me.”

006 gripped the book tightly, an embarrassed flush brushing over his cheeks. Eren snorted from his position on the couch and peeked out at Marco. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said in a jeering tone. “Name’s Eren. The girl on fire is Mikasa.”

“It’s the only way I can keep my ability under control,” Mikasa remarked. She tapped her wrist gently for emphasis. “Sort of like your rings.”

Marco toyed with the bands. He wasn’t sure what their relation was exactly, but he recognized the possibility. After all, they had proved to be more than decoration up to that point. “Are Annie and Reiner the—”

“Blond ones with a nose?” Eren interrupted with a snort. “Don’t worry, they aren’t gonna hurt you. That was a one time deal.”

“Didn’t you want to see if he could fly?” Jean asked without raising his gaze.

Eren’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. Bertholdt spoke up and changed the subject, most likely to avoid confrontation.

“Mikasa and Eren are from the same town,” he said. “They lived within minutes of each other.”

Mikasa understood what he was doing and nodded. “I was the first one brought in. Eren came two and a half years after me.”

The comment brought Marco to a standstill. He looked over at Eren hopefully, not caring if he came off as desperate. “Did you remember her?”

Eren sat upright and shrugged. “Kinda—I was almost eleven when she left,” he said. “We were in the same class, and my dad was her doctor. But when she was gone, everyone we knew treated it like it was nothing.” He rubbed under his nose, his head hanging in what was easily recognizable as sadness. “It made it easy to forget.”

“You forgot?” That was far from what he wished to hear. His sister couldn’t forget about him. After all he had done, it was the last thing he wanted for her.

“After WOF brought Eren in, they had to start memory removal,” Mikasa clarified. “Two missing kids without an explanation was suspicious, so they covered it up with money and tombstones.”

“You mean they…” Marco trailed off, unable to finish. The looks on the other subjects’ faces were answers enough anyway.

“I don’t think she would be able to forget about you,” Jean said. He had looked up from his book to make direct eye contact with Marco. “No matter what the execs do.”

Marco would wonder later on if Jean saw how he was feeling from the start. Maybe he felt the same for a sibling, specifically a younger one. Or maybe he didn’t have to relate at all—he saw the desperation from the beginning. Whatever the reason, it was enough to compel him to look up at him in a new type of light.

The front door to the room opened, and two blonds entered. Marco recognized them immediately, though he had yet to be introduced to Annie, the shorter one. They greeted their fellow subjects; Jean was the only one without a response to give. He returned to his book as if nothing had changed.

“Wagner was right about those omelets,” Reiner announced. He scuffed Jean’s hair as he passed, earning him a swat. “A nice ‘you’re welcome’ would have been cool, too.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Bertholdt said in a quiet voice. When he spoke, Reiner’s head whipped towards him. His expression was wiped of amusement instantly; he started to step over, but he stopped when he saw how close he was to Marco. Hazel eyes swept over him for a brief second before returning to the taller.

“I thought you were gonna come down with us.”

Bertholdt shrugged. “I took a shower.”

“You always come down with us. No matter what.” Reiner glanced back at Marco. “Annie asked about you.”

“If you spread rumors, I’ll freeze your legs off,” Annie threatened. Her legs were draped over the back of the couch, while her body rested on the couch cushions beside Jean. Reiner rolled his eyes at her comment.

“You shouldn’t spread rumors, Reiner,” Bertholdt suggested. “That’s below you.”

“Come on, Bert,” Reiner stepped forward to poke his shoulder. “You know I would never miss out on breakfast with you.”

“Do you not remember what you did yesterday?” Bertholdt’s tone suddenly changed, his voice growing firmer and more secure in volume. The scolding resulted in Reiner looking away almost immediately. “You went overboard.”

Reiner groaned. “Can we talk about this later?”

“You can talk about it here,” Annie teased from the couch. “We’ll all cover our ears so you can bicker in peace.”

“With the psychic right here?”

“His name is Marco,” Bertholdt frowned. “You can use it.”

“Actually, I have to take a shower,” Marco stated, “so you guys can talk if you wanted to.”

“You can hear why Reiner was so mean yesterday,” said Annie. She sat up to look at said subject properly. “It’s only right, after all. Right, Reiner?”

Reiner sighed, biting his lip as he crossed his arms. He seemed to contemplate the offer in his head before proceeding with the confession. “One of Hanji’s studies showed that the DNA strand that changed us is all the same, even if our original DNA isn’t. But after we brought Jean back, they found out that he had been ‘activated’ for six months. Meaning he didn’t change instantly, like…” He paused in his telling, eyes darting around the room at the other subjects, “like you had. Hanji said it was just naturally mutating and evolving, so we would have to change our search tactics, making it harder to track. So we thought that your DNA had done the same.”

“Even though I told you otherwise?” He asked. He despised how small his voice sounded— _ pity is too close to petty _ —and hoped that no one else detected it.

Silence spread through the room before Eren spoke up to answer. “It was between you and the DNA that redefined everything about ourselves, “he said. “What were we supposed to do?”

“When have we ever listened to the execs?” Jean mumbled, just loud enough for Marco to hear. His comment set Eren off and out of his seat.

“We had no choice! It was the only thing we could rely on!”

Jean tossed his book aside and stood up as well. The rectangular screen on his chest pulsed with light. “So we’re just gonna pick and choose what to follow now?! One hour, we’re fighting against their orders, but the next, we’re listening to what they have to say on  _ our _ lives?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

Mikasa stood up and pushed them apart, but stepped more towards Eren. “If the execs hear you outside, you’ll give us up,” she scolded. “You know the risks.”

“Who cares if they throw a few punches?” Annie remarked, inspecting her ice-covered hands with disinterest. “Letting them fight it out is better.”

The fire in Mikasa’s hair bristled at her comments, and she turned to the girl. “Fighting outside of the arena is too risky. We’re guaranteed to raise suspicion if we break rules like that.”

As Annie stood up, the ice on her hands darted out from her knuckles in the form of spikes. “Funny. You didn’t have a problem with it before.”

As the two bickering cases continued, Bertholdt sighed and got Reiner’s attention with a tap on the shoulder. “Can you watch them if I step out for a few minutes?”

“Where are you going?” He wondered.

“I’m going to lead Marco to the showers.” Reiner frowned, but relaxed with the offer of a watery smile. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Bring back food,” Mikasa called out. The fire in her hair had unraveled and twirled around her head like a halo, some of the flames sticking to her hands. Annie had raised clenched fists in front of her face, one leg stepping back and icing over. “We’ll be a while.”

Reiner turned back to Bertholdt with slight hesitance. “I can bring Marco there so you won’t have to make two trips.”

Bertholdt started to protest, but Eren cut him off. “We can handle ourselves!” He shouted. He was on the ground with a growling wolf, trying to hold him down and succeeding. The wolf tried to bite him, but the other boy was moving in blurred motions. “We don’t—need—babysitting!”

If he had been in the place of the taller duo, Marco wouldn’t have trusted any of the others to be alone on their own, when they were on the verge of breaking each other’s necks. Though he had little authority in the matter, so there was nothing for him to do except follow Reiner and Bertholdt out of the room. The clashing of fire and ice, as well as howls and screams, did little to comfort him.

“Don’t look so worried,” Reiner tried to assure him while Bertholdt pressed the button for the elevator. He didn’t sound very confident, talking to Marco, but at least it was a start. “They won’t burn the place down.”

“It’s not the place I’m worried about,” Marco admitted.

“They fight each other all the time,” Bertholdt said. The trio stepped in the elevator, and Reiner pressed the buttons for their floors. “We try to stop it, but it’s pointless in the end.”

“Plus, Bert can take care of any destruction that happens,” Reiner added. He nudged his companion when he said that, but Bertholdt barely flinched. The lack of a response brought on a frown, but he cleared it away, probably to hide his reveal of emotions in front of Marco. “They don’t do too much damage, though. They’re good about keeping house and stuff.”

Marco, unsure of what to say, nodded and smiled. Although his source of tension with Reiner was obvious to him, he found it hard to believe it had any relation to Bertholdt’s coldness. They must be friendly with one another, he supposed, perhaps even friends. However, there was an obvious strain between them, and with their previous conversation as evidence, it was due to his training session yesterday. It was kind of Bertholdt to have such strong feelings for their treatment of him, even if they knew so little about each other, but it was at the cost of another relationship.

When the elevator stopped, Reiner led Marco out. He turned back to Bertholdt quickly, who was already leaning over to close the doors. “We can talk more later, right?” He asked, almost begging. The taller only nodded and said nothing else as the doors closed. The other boy stood in front of the shiny door, staring at nothing in speechlessness.

“I’m guessing you two are really close, huh?” Marco said, unsure if he was stepping over a boundary or not.

Reiner looked at him in a daze when he asked the question, nodding in response. “Yeah, we are. WOF brought us here within months of each other, so we had a lot of the same training.” He glanced back at the elevator before he began to walk down the hall to their left, waving for Marco to follow. “We basically grew up together.”

“He’s really nice. And it’s good that you had him while you were here.”

“Yeah.” Reiner, whether he knew of it or not, smiled in distant thought. “It is. If I had to do it on my own, I…” He glanced over at the shorter with urgency, and a flash of realization crossed over his features. For what must have been the first time since his arrival at the facility, Reiner understood what Marco had been going through. The thought of going through this experience on his own was startling and fearful, and yet he had done all that he could to make the latest newcomer feel the opposite. His guilt was obvious.

Marco, not wanting to be rude, nodded in agreement. “It would be really hard.”

“It would be, yeah.” Reiner cleared his throat and stopped in front of a door. “Everything you need is in there. There’s a hamper for your clothes, and some shampoo and soap.”

“Thanks.”

“And if you, uh…if you want, you can come back upstairs when you’re finished and hang out with us.” Reiner smiled, genuine for the first time and welcoming, and laughed quietly. “That sounded kinda lame, because, I mean, where else are you gonna go, right?”

Marco shrugged, “It’s nice to be included. I wouldn’t mind hanging out with you guys.”

Reiner nodded, hesitating for a brief moment before beginning to walk back to the elevator. He looked back once, whether to contemplate on a farewell or something else, before he turned around the curved hallway and vanished.

It was a relief to have some quiet time for himself, with a guarantee that he wouldn’t be disturbed, but Marco still found himself pondering on what had happened. He had found out so much in such a short time, and as he washed, it was a perfect time to reflect.

What his power was, when he compared it to the other subjects, he had yet to find out, though it dealt in some type of psychic ability. That might have led to the hostility of the other subjects, but he had no proof of it. It just made sense that after seeing elemental abilities similar to theirs for so long and then finding one who controls energy like they do but lacks a key element to control was frightening. It didn’t explain Eren or Jean, both without such abilities, but being subjects 005 and 006 respectively could also affect their reactions.

And even then, Jean had mentioned following orders given to them by the executive board. Eren reacted as if he had heard the words before and understood his reference. If Marco wasn’t mistaken, it sounded like some type of teenage uprising was occurring behind the scenes. He wasn’t sure why they would want to go against the organization that took care of them, so there had to be something he didn’t know about.

Marco dried off with a towel and, after stepping out of the tiled stall and looking around, found a wardrobe with fresh clothes. He slipped on a pair of shirts and a long t-shirt, dumping the used towel in the hamper. He had kept his slippers outside by the door, but when he opened it and stepped out, he was met face-to-face with a beaming smile and glinting glasses. Marco jumped back and shouted at how close they were.

“Good to see you’ve freshened up!” Hanji declared. They acted as if nothing unusual had happened and tossed an arm over his shoulder. “What say you and I take a walk to the commanding eyebrows?”

“Do you have results from my training?” He asked once his heart had returned to a regular rhythm.

The scientist gasped in mock offense; “Who told you about my surprise?! I bet it was Eren, wasn’t it? He doesn’t like to keep his mouth shut for long. But hey, what can you do?” Hanji shrugged and sighed, as if it was a misfortune on everyone’s shoulders. “Levi would say it’s better that you know than to find out the hard way, but where’s the fun in a little surprise now and then?”

Marco, confining to his fate, laughed quietly. “Surprises can be nice, sometimes. There’s always room for the unexpected.”

Hanji tilted their head, ponytail swishing with the movement, and their eyes blinked in astonishment. “You’re in better spirits.” They took his hand with surprising gentleness and examined his spinning bracelets up close. “You don’t seem to be in stress.” They glanced at him over the top of their glasses. “And you even laughed.” A wide grin stretched over their face, and they dropped his hand in order to embrace him tightly. “I thought it was a hoax, but you haven’t caught any case of the grumpies!”

The taut grip clenched his chest and made breathing difficult for a brief moment, but Hanji was quick in releasing him and grabbing him by the hand. They moved too quickly for him to understand, it was a wonder they still managed to work there.

“Come, Marco, we have to share the good news!”

Hanji hauled him over to the stairs, skipping over the elevator with the excuse that it would “take too much time and we have none to waste,” and took them two at a time. Marco had to release his hand in order to keep from stumbling and just to try and keep up with their quick pace. The duo got out on the first floor, and Hanji hurried down a large corridor to a giant atrium with a wide central staircase in the middle.

Marco halted in the middle of the room and gazed at the sunlight that streamed in above. It must have been a week since he had seen it, but the warmth of the rays on his skin was something he couldn’t forget. The front door—at least, he believed it to the be the front door—was bolted with a heavy steel bar in the middle that prevented it from being open. A small urge to run for it and try to escape rose in his chest, but it was diminished as soon as Hanji spoke up.

“Keep up, 007!” The scientist was at the top of the stairs, a corridor leading to a brown door on either end. “We have an audience awaiting us.”

Marco took the stairs and followed Hanji to the office on his left. They knocked four times in a rhythmic pattern and turned the knob. Levi and Mike were seated in chairs in front of a large brown desk, which Erwin sat behind. The trio looked up at the entering scientist and the subject.

“Good news!” Hanji crowed, patting Marco on the back. “We have an optimist! Take that, Ackerman!”

“Shut the door already,” Levi growled, his head in his hands. “I want to get this over with.” Mike, a long-haired giant with a long nose, snorted in what must have been agreement. Levi scoffed and smacked his chair. “Sasquatch agrees with me on one thing.”

“I’ll try not to make it a habit,” Mike shrugged, absently cleaning his nails with a Swiss army knife. Hanji shut the door and blew the two men a kiss. Mike pretended to catch it; Levi kept up a steady scowl.

“Let’s keep the fighting to a minimum, shall we?” Erwin suggested. He was organizing papers into a file and handed it off, with his metallic hand, to Hanji.

“Control your mutt and we won’t have any problems,” Levi said.

“Your cat’s getting pissy again,” Mike nodded to the man beside him. Hanji laughed obnoxiously and cut off what might have turned into a vicious battle.

“Not in front of our lovely guest, boys,” they teased. They sat on Erwin’s desk with a flourish and began to dig through the file. “Now, what do we have here…”

Levi stood from his chair and waved Marco over. “Stop looking like a frightened cat,” he ordered as he ushered the boy into the seat. “It’ll only make things worse for you.”

Marco let out a long breath and gripped his knees, releasing them with each exhale. He wasn’t sure how Levi had been able to see it so quickly, but he tried to calm down anyway, watching the rotation of his rings to ease into a more comfortable state of mind. The more relaxed he was, the more he could comprehend the situation. Being wound up like a string wouldn’t do him any good.

Hanji pulled out a few papers, giggling under their breath and rustling the sheets between their hands. “Alright, 007, are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be,” he said.

“Good!” Hanji rotated to face him, turning serious but speaking in a light tone, probably to keep the atmosphere calm. “So, to start you off from the beginning, your DNA has changed—or compromised, if you want to use our terminology—in a matter we refer to as alien entry.”

“It’s not extraterrestrial,” Erwin clarified briefly. “It’s a foreign energy that we have yet to properly define, due to its deceptive nature. We can only detect it once it’s latched onto a host.”

“Except it started to mutate, so we can’t track it as easily anymore. Lemme see if I—” Hanji paused to dig through the file in their hands and pulled out two sheets. Both of them showed a combination of strands and were color coded, with a key at the bottom of the page. The one difference was the thickness of the yellow-colored segments on the right strand. “The DNA strand on the right is what you and 006 have. The yellow indicates espionage ability, which yours has more of.”

So far, so good. Marco nodded to show that he was listening and keeping up. The data was startling, but with a steady breath and Levi’s words playing like a mantra in his head, he kept a leveled state of mind. Not to mention that Hanji was slow in their explanation, delivering in a warm tone that helped him pay attention.

Hanji grinned and tossed the paper aside. “Now, how is it relevant to you if your DNA is super sneaky? According to our progress from the detoxification, your power had been active for a week before Mike’s scanner discovered you.”

That last fact startled him. Marco was grateful he had calmed down before, because something drastic might have happened otherwise. For a whole week, his family didn’t know where he was, and if Eren was right, they were told he was dead and given money to keep quiet. How had he gotten to his sister? How did his parents react?

A hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. “Your parents and sister are okay,” Levi assured.

“Do they know where I am?” Marco asked. He didn’t receive an answer.

“By letting you detox as soon as you came in, we were able to get basic measurements for your field test,” Hanji continued. “Think of it as visiting the doctor for a physical, only you’re releasing energy uncontrollably and we examine those samples to get an idea of what you can do.”

Marco just shook his head, overcome with disbelief. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“During your detoxification, your power is still trying to fit with the rest of your body,” Erwin explained. “You don’t have control of your actions, which gives us an opportune time to see what you are capable of. Your training session allows for a more critical analysis, because we can track your actions with our software.”

Hanji nodded in agreement, but no one else spoke afterward. Marco hoped they were letting it all sink in, because he needed to recollect his thoughts. His head was swimming with new information and a struggle to understand it all. The steadiness he had maintained had wobbled and left him stranded. How so much could happen to one person, he couldn’t comprehend. But the bigger thought on his mind was why he was chosen. He had lived a nice life, hadn’t he? The medical bills were a lot, and they were constantly struggling, and he took as many neighborhood jobs as he could. Was it not enough?

“Hey,” Levi nudged his shoulder, “what did I say earlier? You need to relax.” He gestured to a paperweight and a ballpoint pen that were floating above Erwin’s desk and covered in dim cyan lighting. Mike poked the pen experimentally, and it bobbed slightly before returning to position.

“Your ability covered under our umbrella term for controlling something with the mind, or psychokinesis,” Hanji stated, “but you know it as telekinesis.”

“You use a psychic energy to move objects around,” Levi added. He knelt down to look the boy straight in the eye. Marco tried to look away, but the shorter made that nearly impossible. Once he achieved eye contact, the two items dropped back down. “You have a lot of power within you, and you can access huge networks that our psyche couldn’t dream of reaching. But you can’t let it intimidate you.”

“The other subjects have already tried that,” Mike pointed out. Erwin hummed in agreement.

“They’ve never had someone more powerful than them put together,” he said.

“If you knew how long it took to take you down—” Levi began, but he was cut off.

“I don’t want this,” Marco interrupted. He kept his head bowed while he spoke. “I never asked for this. And I want to go home, but I can’t, because everyone thinks I’m dead and won’t know I ever existed.”

Levi sighed, one hand clamping over his temples and rubbing the spot. “I’d bet money that Eren told you that. And if not Eren, then Jean, on the off chance that he talked to you.” He grabbed both of Marco’s hands, bringing his gaze back, and looked at him in a mixture of firm authority and reassuring parent. “But you have a right to feel angry right now. If I was in your place, I would be too.”

“How can this get better?” Hope was diminishing in front of his very eyes. There could never be a good turnout from this, not now. He couldn’t go back ever.

“Now that your DNA has been rerouted with an alien entry, we have to treat that strand with the utmost importance,” said Hanji. “That’s why we have sessions in the arena that specifically affect and call on your ability. Without it, your whole system—your body—could fail.” Levi glared at them at that latest bit, and they sheepishly grinned. “That’s just a theory, though. We’ve never tested it out, and we never will.”

“We aren’t going to put you under too much stress, but there might be some tension,” Erwin advised. He handed a sheet over from his desk that had an itinerary on it, with lessons and matched locations for multiple things. Some were simple and familiar—mathematics and history—but there were others—mind theory and agility training—that were new. “For your first day of classes, you’ll simply observe what’s going on. But for your second day, your instructor, depending on the course, will decide whether you’re ready to participate.”

“My team won’t push anything, don’t worry,” Mike assured. He smiled faintly and stole a glance at Levi. “I can’t say the same for the cat, though.”

“If you don’t muzzle him, then I will,” Levi threatened, and Erwin facepalmed. Hanji cackled in the background with their head thrown back.

“You boys are so fun,” they sighed.

Erwin looked at Marco past the flailing arms and bickering scientists. “I promise,” he said, with a strong conviction that the boy couldn’t help but be drawn to, “we’re going to make your transition here as easy as possible.”

_ I can only hope you’re right. _ Marco kept his thought to himself and nodded.


	5. Clash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco makes friends (he thinks) and is shown kindness from his peers. But the perfect picture doesn't last long—there's a secret being kept from him, and he doesn't like how it sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got some nice things in here, like friends and jokes, but then we got some not-so-nice things, like monsters. As Clopin from Hunchback of Notre Dame says, "what makes a monster and what makes a man?" That's totally it, right?
> 
> Little caution warning for some light, platonic Eremarco in this chapter. It's not much, but still deserves some caution since not everyone digs it. I promise wholeheartedly that the next chapters will build on Jean and Marco's relationship. A little spoiler of it can be found at the end of the chapter, but I guess you'll just have to read the whole thing to get to it. ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

“Hey _siete_ —someone takes long showers.”

Marco broke out of a daze at Eren’s inquiry. He blinked rapidly to adjust to his surroundings and discovered that he was back in the living space on their private floor. The subjects were sitting on the two sofas, Eren and Mikasa sharing one and offering a free space beside the former. Jean remained in wolf form, curled up in a ball and sleeping under the coffee table.

Although his conversation with the execs rang in his head, Marco had no idea how he had gotten back to his room. It was highly likely that he had spaced out on the walk back, whether he had come on his own or alone. He was only sure of one thing: the information he had received confirmed the suspicions of the subjects. He had some experience, regardless of its sum or how aware he was, with his telekinesis prior to their meeting.

Using his ability’s proper name would definitely take some getting used to. Maybe that would help his acceptance of his situation, despite that being far from its actual purpose.  
  
Eren whistled for attention when he didn’t receive an answer. “You with me, Marco?” Luckily, the four other subjects were busy with their own conversation and paid him no mind.

“Yeah, sorry,” Marco shook his head and walked over to the couch. A wolf tail lashed out at him when he sat down beside Eren, a warning to watch where he stepped, followed up by a grumble. “The results for my field test came back.”

No one seemed very surprised or taken aback by the response. Eren sighed and nodded, akin to a sage trying to exert his wisdom on a subordinate. “Your first meeting with the execs,” he mused. A plate with a half-eaten omelet laid in his lap. “It’s always a hard one, but it’s your last one until the quarter starts up.”

Marco shrugged and sat back into the cushion. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought. Levi helped things, a little.”

Emerald eyes lit up at that, and Eren lunged forward. “Dude, Levi’s the best exec there is.” Beside him, with his back turned to her, Mikasa rolled her eyes. “He actually pays attention to us.”

“His team is obnoxious and he created a punishment training for what we did at the last field test,” Annie stated. Her comment went unnoticed by its intended audience, but Reiner flinched at the mention.

“The one thing we can agree on,” Mikasa hummed. Annie stuck out her tongue as a response.

Eren scoffed and slumped in his spot. “You guys are only saying that because of that one time he didn’t give you a perfect score.”

“I’ve worked with him longer than you have, so I know him better than you. Reiner and Bertholdt will say the exact same thing.”

Bertholdt, upon hearing his name, looked up from eating and frowned. “I don’t want to clean up another fight today,” he said, begging silently. His companion beside him sighed and, without question, handed Marco a plate with a fresh omelet on it. He accepted it with soft thanks.

“Levi’s no different than the other execs,” Reiner remarked with a smirk, “but he’s more likely to listen to us and treat us with some type of humanly respect.”

“And that’s definitely happened,” Annie mumbled. Though Marco wondered what she meant, and was tempted to ask for clarification, the conversation quickly steered into a new direction with a bark under the table.

“I’m not worried about you anymore,” Eren scoffed. “Quit nagging me.” There was a brief moment of quiet, and then the wolf crawled out from under the table and stretched his limbs.

“Who were you talking to?” Marco wondered. The green-eyed boy stared at him for a brief second before realization crossed his face.

“Oh, yeah, when Jean’s an animal, which is all the time, because he’s a jackass—ow!” The wolf bit his leg and snarled. Eren tried to swat his nose, but Marco sat in his way and was forced to dodge a swinging hand.

“That’s another five minutes,” Mikasa stated. The wolf—Jean—started to whine, but she interrupted it. “You’ll get a headache and complain about it all day if you change now.” With his current fate determined, the canine stretched out on the ground and huffed, a pout shining in amber eyes.

“When Jean is in animal form,” Bertholdt picked up, which was probably the safer bet, “everything but his personality changes so that he can, as Hanji put it, become that animal. He can’t talk to us unless it’s through a psychic link.”

“But it only works on select people,” Eren piped in. “The psyche network is really specific in choosing who can have access for it, and Jean can pick and choose who can hear his message.”

“ _Like right now_ ,” spoke the familiar voice, though it sounded like a voice in his head. Marco glanced at the wolf, eyes closed and tail dancing beside him, for any acknowledgement, but there was none. There was only his voice speaking along the psychic network. “ _He acts like he knows the network so well, yet he forgets I can talk about him like this._ ”

“He also can’t change out of his form when he’s facing stress or pain, so he has to wait a long time.” Eren stuck his tongue out at the wolf and smirked as if he had won.

“ _Tch. Asshole. I totally saw that._ ” One eye peeked up at him. “ _But he doesn’t have to know._ ”

Marco laughed quietly at the reply, but he found out quickly that it was the wrong move. Eren tapped on his shoulder and tried to look over at Jean from over Marco’s shoulder. “What’s he saying?!”

“He didn’t say anything,” Marco replied, but quickly added to Jean, through the psychic network, “ _I won’t tell your secret if you won’t tell mine._ ” The idea came to him in a flash, a small curious urge to try out the new method of communication. He hadn’t thought about using it before; aside from the loneliness of not having anyone to communicate with, he was still figuring out new things about his telekinesis. And it worked, judging by the wolf’s perked ears and eyes that flicked open. “I just find it ironic that he can use the psychic network and doesn’t have a psychic power.”

“What’s ironic about that?” Mikasa asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean,” he looked off to the side, as if in deep thought, “maybe I could access it with the telekinesis.”

Silent gazes across the room focused on him. Judging by the looks in their eyes, they were not expecting the classification of his ability. It was between that or seeing right through his white lie. The quiet was only broken with an impressed whistle from Reiner. “So that’s what we’re finally calling it.”

“I thought you were psychic,” Annie said.

“It’s kind of the same thing,” Marco offered. “I mean, ‘psychic’ isn’t wrong.”

“Huh.” She nodded at the information and stood up. “Well, I’m done socializing for the week. I’m heading to Rene’s.”

“It’ll be easier to go together,” Bertholdt pointed out. The girl only waved at him dismissively as she passed by and walked out the door.

“Trying to go after your crush again?” Reiner teased. The taller boy beside him turned to him with an offended gasp. “Hey, I’m just trying to be a good wingman!”

“ _Bertholdt’s crush on Annie has been dead for a long time,_ ” Jean pointed out. “ _Reiner only points it out because he doesn’t know how to address his crush on Bertholdt._ ”

“ _How do you know?_ ” Marco asked, watching the duo taunt and prod one another. It felt strange to talk without physically using words, more akin to talking to himself, but he supposed that was part of the new experience. He would get used to it in time.

“ _I have credible sources. Call me a fly on the wall, or whatever._ ”

“Is Marco staying here?” Eren wondered. Mikasa was gathering the plates in a pile while simultaneously getting Bertholdt and Reiner to move.

“He’s not required to go today,” she said, “but he’ll have to in the future.”

“Pff. Lame.” He slouched over on the free spot on the couch. Mikasa patted his head as she passed, and the other kinetics left the room as well. When they did, Eren stretched out on his back and kicked his feet up. “They’re going to kinetic training. According to everyone, it’s scientific and tedious and boring, but Rene’s nice and makes everything a little better. They won’t be back for at least two hours, though.”

“And I’ll have to go to that soon, huh?” Marco sighed.

“Yep.” He smirked teasingly, as if he had no regrets that he was missing out on the lesson. It reminded Marco of a big brother poking fun at his younger sibling.

Beside them, the wolf was enveloped in a white light and turned upright. When the light dimmed, Jean was standing in its place and toying with the shiny rectangle on his chest. It was extended from its holder and held in his hand for a brief second before he returned it to its place. The movements tuned the shimmer down to a dull brightness.

“Hey, _sexto cerdo_ ,” Eren waved lazily. Marco, having grown up in a bilingual household thanks to a bilingual mother, caught the translation easily and frowned.

Jean huffed at the insult. “You know I can’t speak good Spanish.”

“Why do you think I did it? Use your human brain, not your _cerdo_ one.”

“Whatever, _crétin._ ” He caught Marco’s gaze for a brief second, but he looked away immediately, grabbed his book off the coffee table, and walked out. The French insult barely affected Eren, who huffed and proceeded into a new conversation topic as if nothing had happened.

The following week gave Marco a better taste of what being a subject meant. Because of their ages, ranging between sixteen and seventeen, they required basic classes for a regular high school student. It added a bit of normalcy to their days, even with the added courses that discussed their powers in an attempt of comprehension and the firm clique that, initially, seemed impossible to form.

Reiner and Bertholdt were never seen without the other unless they had an individual training session, although the other still waited patiently for him to come out. Both Annie and Mikasa were friendly with them, and for the same reason: their proximity to the male duo in number brought them closer together. Eren twirled between all four, a shining center for a quintet that tried to let Jean in but was pushed away each time.

Team dynamics were heavily implied and discussed in lessons, especially Levi’s according to officials, though Jean seemed to make that difficult for everyone each time teamwork was advised. He refused to let anyone watch his training, without reason or excuse. When one of the subjects tried to reach out to him, he erected a stone wall with spikes so that no one got too close and, hopefully, would stay away. Marco thought he was being distant, but this was a new level. Jean had been there for six months already and yet acted as if he was a new arrival.

It didn’t stop Marco from trying to reach out to him. He poked at the stone gate and talked to him, even if Jean turned away and snorted in disinterest. Sometimes, depending on the topic, he was lucky enough to receive a response, even if Jean never gave him the chance to answer. He replied either in passing, leaving the room immediately after, or at odd moments after their initial conversation took place. Marco only confused himself further trying to figure it out.

Thankfully, Levi scheduled his first field training with the other subjects just in time to distract him. Spearing his focus on something else could do some good. It was two weeks since he had been hypothetically branded as 007, and while his time spent waddling in despair over his situation started to space out throughout the days, he tried just a bit harder to participate with the other subjects. At the end of the day, they were in the same boat: brought out of their regular lives because of a change in their DNA. Being on the same page helped better their relationships.

Mikasa entered the locker room on the day of the field test, each step determined and harsh as flares of fire twirled off her scarf. Some of it flickered around her hands and stretched over her knuckles. Marco was putting on his sneakers, in the middle of a conversation with Bertholdt and Reiner, when she entered.

“Who lit the kindling under your feet?” Reiner joked as she passed by. When she turned to face him, the teasing expression dropped. Her concern was no laughing matter.

“Levi’s making us run the obstacle course,” she stated firmly. Her voice was harsh, a stark contrast to her usually composed demeanor. “He says that it’s the best way to help us work together.”

Reiner scowled. “Is he serious?”

“Did you tell him that we’re mostly a team and only have to bring one more member in?” Annie asked. She had been sitting on the other side of the room with Eren, who had gone stone cold silent at the mention of Levi.

“What do you think?” Mikasa snapped. “I tried, but he doesn’t like to listen to anyone.”

“You guys never give him a chance,” Eren started, but an uproar of flames silenced him. They didn’t reach him, but the level of irritation was enough to quiet him.

“Stop defending a rat. He isn’t ever going to do us any good.”

Eren turned away with a huff. Jean came in quietly, looking solemnly between the two sides of the room. He said nothing, but his expression and tense stance were just as telling.

Mikasa sat down on a bench and shut her eyes. Gradually, the fire returned back to her scarf and stopped spinning. “Did he say anything else?” She asked quietly.

“Just that we aren’t going to be studied this time,” he replied. “Marco’s the only one being monitored.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Bertholdt said. “Why would he make all of us do an obstacle course if he’s recording one person?”

Jean walked across the room to stand across from Marco, leaning against the lockers. “Hell if I know. He said it was orders and he was following them.”

“What does the obstacle course do?” Marco wondered. He learned quickly that asking questions, with this group, had to be done strategically. If he did it in the heat of their moment, his voice would be lost to theirs.

“It’s like any other obstacle course, except the equipment tracks how we use it,” Annie explained. “It’s long, and it’s disgusting, and we hate doing it.”

“Plus, we’re forced to do it, because it’ll be obvious if we passed over a section or avoided it,” Reiner added. The jovial tone he had taken up before was gone, replaced with a drip of disdain. “And there’s a fifty-fifty chance Schultz will catch it on the monitors and report it. It’s hard to slack with him.”

Annie scoffed. “Don’t kid yourself. Bossard never does his job, and Schultz has to pick up the slack.”

“It sounded like they just wanted to see how well Marco follows us,” offered Jean. “He would just be mimicking what we do. How can you learn from that?”

“We could just walk him through it and not go on it,” Eren piped in.

“I thought you wanted to please Levi,” Mikasa seethed. His glower was answered with a similar pierce. “Do you think it’ll work?”

“Would you get in trouble for ignoring their requests?” Marco asked.

“They’re only worried about you,” Reiner pointed out. “We’re not needed. All Levi and his crew want is what you do. How the rest of us do this is in your hands, freckles.”

“So we get to walk beside him while he gets to push through hell?” Jean said. He was less than impressed with the offer.

002 scoffed and tilted his head with a fake smile. “I’m sorry, do you have a better way to resist these idiots? Because if you do, you should share with the group.”

Jean remained quiet, his fists clenching his sleeves. When he didn’t say anything further, Reiner huffed and walked out of the arena, patting Marco’s shoulder as he passed. Bertholdt followed close behind him, with a sympathetic smile to boot. The others followed suit after, throwing on the last of any workout clothes and exiting to the arena. Jean lingered behind with Marco, who waited until they were alone to speak.

“Do I really have a choice in this?” He asked in a small voice. He hoped that there was something, anything, to provide leeway. It would be the first time in two weeks that he saw his voice was importance.

Jean shrugged, biting his nail anxiously. Marco reached over to pat his arm, moreso to gather his attention than to stop him, but he dropped his arm nonetheless. “Levi’s request is weird,” he admitted. “And we don’t have to go through with his plan. But I don’t think it’s fair that we would make you go through all the trouble—with your birthday coming up too, no less—just to make you go through hell.”

Marco soaked in the explanation as he would have any other time. Somehow, whether he was biased or what, Jean helped explain things a bit more. He recalled Eren teasing him once about acting like a lost puppy and how grateful he was that Jean had broken out of it, to which he responded with a fist to the jaw and a pounce over the table in the cafeteria. But the side note tacked onto his statement floored Marco in his shoes. He had barely kept track, but he noticed on a calendar in their common room that had stated the date. “How do you know it’s my birthday?”

Amber eyes gazed at him mutely for what felt like a long while. A desire to say something on the tip of his tongue lingered for a brief moment, but he broke the stare before he could let it out. “You said when you first came in that your birthday was in two weeks. I just figured it was coming up.”

“It’s today. I turn sixteen.”

Jean nodded firmly and headed for the door to the arena. “Mazel to you.”

The shifter was full of surprises, though he did not lack kindness. Marco reminded himself to thank Jean later, when no one was around and when they had time to have a real talk.

Levi was standing in the middle of the arena with the rest of the subjects, a clipboard in his hand. If he was affected by the anger brewing from them, he didn’t reveal it. He greeted Jean and Marco with a nod before he spoke.

“I won’t try to waste your time here, since I know you all love to hear from me,” he started, with eyerolls and scoffs from Annie and Reiner that he ignored, “but since we have a new member, I need to debrief you on the situation.”

“Mikasa already told us everything,” Annie said.

“I’m sure she did.” Mikasa’s eyes narrowed at the remark, though Levi turned his back to her and handed Marco the clipboard. It held down a map of an outside area, with various courses along a single path. Some of it brought him through water or the air, and one section traveled up a steep incline that dropped and led to the finishing point. “Hanji and Mike designed an obstacle course that tracks the participant’s movements as they go through it. There’s no perfect time to completing it, since its sole purpose is to track you, instead of race you. Since this is your first time, the others will be your guide. All you have to do is follow what they do.”

“You forgot to mention the part where we’ve struggled to complete the track every time you assigned this to us,” Reiner pointed out. Bertholdt nudged him, a familiar sign to quit the act, but his friend didn’t listen. “Or the part where copycatting has never helped us.”

Levi shut his eyes, rubbing his temples, and turned to face the taller. Despite the large gap in their height differences, with Levi just coming to Reiner’s shoulder, the shorter still managed to pull off a menacing glare. “Marco has no idea what he’s doing. I refuse to put him in a situation that forces him to adapt from the first start.”

“It could help him learn more,” Bertholdt offered. Marco had noticed that 003, when it mattered the most, was a voice of reason. If he talked more, and not when Reiner failed to get a point across, he could be a strong force. More often than not, however, his insecurity got the better of him and silenced him before he could make a good point.

“I’m sure it could, if we used it. But we’re not going to do that.” Levi turned back to Marco. “We just want to see your physical capabilities so we can help strengthen you to work with your telekinesis. That’s all we need from you.” When he turned to the others, he was firm and on the verge of threatening. “And if any of you sabotage this, you’ll have to pay.”

Marco remembered the training session that Levi had promised the six after his first field test. Even though his relationship with the subjects was now better, though improving gradually, it hadn’t changed Levi’s feelings, and he created a harsh session specifically for them. Marco recalled how angry and tired they had been afterward, but it had changed little on their feelings for him, something that took him by surprise.

A door on the opposite end of the arena, led by the other subjects, brought Marco to a winding corridor. Levi left them despite his obvious reluctance, though he was reassured by the group that they could be trusted to head to the course on their own.

“Levi wants you guys to show me how to complete the course, right?” He clarified. The answers he received were questioning stares and expected glances. “And you can do that without going on the course?”

“If it’ll help you, we can,” Jean said.

“Do you wanna drag your sorry ass back to your room?” Eren snapped. “Freckles is giving us a break and we should take it.” He wrapped an arm around Marco’s shoulder and tugged him close. “Look, you have to do this no matter what, but if you think it’s easier for us to talk you through everything, be our guest.”

Jean stepped over to Marco’s other side and slapped Eren’s hand away. “Stop manipulating him and let him choose what he wants.”

“I don’t mind either way,” Marco offered. “If it’s easier for you guys to walk me thr—” He was barely finished talking before Eren and Jean started yelling. Their words mingled together enough to make any verbal distinction impossible. Mikasa broke the two up before they got physical. Reiner scooped in, guiding Marco ahead with Bertholdt and Annie. “But what about—”

“They’ll catch up,” Reiner assured him. “Mikasa will handle them.” He offered a smile. “She’s experienced in crisis control.”

The group of four made a left turn and stopped at a metal door. On the wall was the familiar black call box, used in areas of restricted personnel. With a press of the red button and a short wait, the door opened and revealed the outside.

The last time Marco had been outside, he was being transported from the helicopter that delivered him to the facility. He had been strapped down and spent barely any time there, so it couldn’t really count. But regardless, the point stood that any attempt to go outside was rejected. Sometimes, one of his fellow subjects would mention going outside to relax, but they hesitated to let him follow.

Now, stepping outside for the first time in two weeks, he couldn’t understand why. The grass was vibrant and fresh; the trees, in scattered clusters, were sturdy and large, branches outstretched and flourishing. A lake occupied the space between them and a round hill. The obstacle course made its own trail, weaving around the natural structures and, from what he could judge, through or over them.

 _The wait was worth it._ Marco looked at his three companions in amazement and wonder. “How come I couldn’t go outside before?”

“That’s a long story,” Reiner chuckled. “And it’s not ours to tell. But we can tell you that after today, you’re free to come here whenever you want.”

“The trees go on for a while, but there’s a high fence surrounding this entire area,” Bertholdt added. “So it’s completely private for our use.”

Marco felt like a little kid in his excitement, relieved that he was able to find some sanctuary outside of the facility. Some days made it feel more like a prison he couldn’t escape from, and the gray walls paired with a required routine provided no help.

By the time they reached the start of the obstacle course, Mikasa met up with them, Jean and Eren in tow. They stayed away from each other, the latter pouting off to the side while the former flicked his glowing rectangle and transformed into a hummingbird. The tiny reunion encouraged Marco to begin his training, walking along the zigzagging balance beams set up in a clearing.

“Try not to rush right now,” Reiner offered, walking beside Marco as he cautiously stepped on the beam. So far, he had provided nothing but help that eased the nervousness. “The first few courses are easy, and you’re not timed right now, so you can just focus on getting through it.”

“If you’re gonna hog his attention, I’m gonna take a nap on the lake,” Annie stated. She had been disinterested in the exercise from the start. No one protested her, giving her the chance to walk back in the direction they had come. When she was gone, Reiner rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“She means well. Sometimes. Don’t take it personally.”

Marco hopped off the beam and glanced briefly over his shoulder. “How is she gonna nap on the lake?”

Bertholdt, from Reiner’s other side, piped in. “Freezing water is part of Annie’s cryokinesis. She either needs a water source or the presence of water molecules in order to make ice.”

A small smile surfaced on his face, hoping he wasn’t pushing a boundary. “I guess you two make a good team.” The taller only blushed and bowed his head.

Reiner barked out a laugh; “Bert’s the only one she’ll work with willingly! Eren’s gotta convince her, Mikasa’s gotta provoke her, and I gotta bribe her.”

Marco climbed up a ladder and stood on a platform that overlooked three sets of monkey bars, each one with more distance between each bar than the next. Through his curiosity on how this course worked out, he noted the obvious subject that was left out. “What does Jean need to do?”

“Jean works with no one,” Eren spoke up. His tone was biting and far from friendly. If Marco looked over, he expected a searing glare to match. “He refuses to do pairs or train with us.”

“ _He makes me sound like an asshole,_ ” Jean huffed, using the link for the psychic network. No one else reacted to the message, so it must have been just for him.

“Is there a reason that he is?” Marco asked.

His question was met with a scoff and a whizz near his head. “ _Keep your button nose out of my business._ ”

The comeback was a bit strange, but Marco didn’t push any further. He focused on completing the monkey bars and moved on to the next obstacles. His limbs started to ache halfway through, but he pushed on. He hopped between high ledges and swung on ropes to reach the next path. Each step became heavier with fatigue, but he proceeded. The lake section was up ahead in the distance, and according to his teammates he was a quarter of the way done, which was reassuring to his exhausted body.

Marco doubled over and balanced his hands on his knees. His chest burned for oxygen and his legs were rooted to the spot. Because the lake was up ahead, Reiner and Bertholdt had walked over to talk to Annie. Eren and Mikasa followed, the latter’s reasoning to prevent more unnecessary fighting. Jean, in hummingbird form, buzzed around Marco mockingly.

“ _What, you’re getting tired **now**?_ ” He taunted. “ _You’ve been out here for thirty minutes!_ ”

“ _I’m not used to this yet,_ ” Marco answered, hoping he wouldn’t get teased for his lack of athleticism. He had always preferred brain power. “ _Cut me some slack._ ”

“ _I’ll cut you some slack when you show me some muscle. Now get across that lake!_ ”

Marco glared at the whizzing bird, though it lacked any real malice or disdain. “ _You’re terrible as a motivator._ ”

“ _Show me progress and I’ll be better._ ”

It sounded like a sound deal, even if it was formed in the middle of playful banter. Marco took three confident steps forward and was instantly nearly crushed by a tree suddenly falling in front of him. A hand dug into the back of his shirt and dragged him back, but a branch caught his foot and brought his weight down. He dropped on his back and gazed up at Jean, back in human form. His attention was pinned on the force that had knocked the tree down in the first place.

When Marco sat up and tugged his foot free, he looked up to find a giant, naked humanoid standing over the tree’s trunk with a dumbfounded expression. Although “expression” was a poor word choice—it might have looked human, but the monster was anything but. Its hair was scraggly, and it had no genitals or any indication of sex. Its eyes were sunken and droopy, dimly hazel and empty inside. But the smile that stretched its lips when it looked over at him chilled his bones and froze him to his spot.

It was not human at all. Humans didn’t smile in terrific glee like that, nor did their eyes glint to emphasize the void within. And they certainly didn’t swat away any obstacles, including a shifter who fumbled for the sheathed weapon on his back, to reach him. Fingers grasped his waist firmly and brought him up to a straight line of teeth baring down at him in the most unpleasant grin. Marco’s voice vanished as the eyes roamed over him, the nostrils flaring hot air and pushing his hair back, and the grip tightening around him. It was his broken gasp that returned him to reality, shook him out of shock, and filled his trembling lungs with screams.

His arms and legs ached from the exercise, but Marco refused to succumb. He tried to pry his way free, and he called on his power to erupt from his fingertips, but his mind was scrambled. It only worsened when the mouth opened wide, breathing heavily and raising him closer. His fear spiked and kicked his adrenaline into gear as his legs fought to wiggle out to freedom and his arms raised to push the teeth away. Marco barely missed having his right arm gnawed off as the mouth chomped down, but he swerved just in time. The action sent him into a flurry of words.

“No no no, please, let me down, I don’t want to be eaten, I haven’t done anything _wrong_ —!” The hand tightened around him, and Marco saw stars blossom behind his eyes. One more squeeze and he would lose consciousness, permanently or not.

There was a flash of flames that erupted behind its head, and then the monster was falling. Its expression—jaw open and ready, eyes wide and dead—stayed in place as it tumbled over on the ground. When its hand fell, Marco scrambled to push his way to freedom and lift the grip. His chest heaved at the effort, and he was convinced he would pass out until a pair of knives cut the fingers off and freed him. Marco crawled away with blurred vision, ignoring the sticky grass beneath his fingers and refusing to stop for anything. A hand on his shoulder and a lanky body, topped with blue hair, was barely successful in halting him, doing so with a quiet hush until he made eye contact.

“Are you hurt in any way?” Bertholdt demanded. A wooden staff was in his other hand, grip taut and tainting his knuckles with white. Reiner was behind him, stance tense and ready to pounce. Jean must have alerted them of the situation, or they heard it on their own. Either one was likely.

“Breathing,” Marco gasped, struggling to sit and not vomit his breakfast. His hands trembled as they combed through his hair and gripped for stability. “I-it hurts.”

“I can feel the rumbles from here,” Reiner murmured, probably to Bert. “There’s more of them.” The broken sob that escaped past Marco’s lips took him by surprise and brought his comrade’s attention to him. Reiner bent down and made eye contact. “They aren’t coming for you. We’ll make sure of it.”

“Reiner can hollow out the fallen tree for you to hide in before Eren returns,” Bertholdt added reassuringly. His voice was soft and smooth, like a river trickling down its path before a storm. “They won’t find you.”

Marco nodded, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and started to stand, but Bertholdt held him down when he stumbled. Reiner removed the hammer from the sheath around his shoulder and called out to Jean in passing, something about choosing a bird before more arrivals. Marco chanced a look over his shoulder to find Jean flipping through the display from the rectangle, hurried and anxious. Mikasa, scarf unraveled, and Annie stood beside him, staring at the endless trees before them. The body of the monster was nearly gone, its flesh having evaporated into steam, revealing its skeleton.

So much was going on at once. So many questions rang in his head. But none of them could be answered in time to relieve his frayed nerves. Reiner and Bertholdt ushered him to the safety of the newly-hollowed trunk, whispering promises of sanctuary and protection, before they left. What followed next, Marco could only describe in sounds: footsteps against grass and wood, thuds of heavy footing that wracked him to his core, the unsettling shouts of his teammates as they communicated with one another. It sounded like they were in battle, but there was no real way to tell. Only the thuds of monstrous bodies hitting the ground assured him of that guess.

Whatever was going on, whatever the large monster had been, it broke Marco’s composure. He had managed to keep a straight face during the unveiling of his telekinesis, accepting his mutated DNA and new lifestyle to the best of his ability. He allowed minimal relief at night, when no one could witness or judge the tears, because he would have to move on someday and accept fate. Now, with titanic humanoids threatening to _eat_ him, Marco had no strength to keep the bottle closed.

He wished for a home that didn’t require him to hide in a tree trunk. He wished for a time where he was free of curses that altered his genetic code and opened up a new world of psychic powers to his life. He wanted a place to be useful but safe, where his biggest concern was how his family was going to pay hospital bills. Knowing that all of it was for naught only sped up the trickle of tears down his face.

The thud of footsteps was lost to his ears until one landed right next to the entrance of the trunk. Marco stayed completely still, worried that the slightest movement would catch its attention. For a split second, he thought the massive body would peek inside—its knees dropped down and nearly blocked his way out—but it never happened. There was a thunk and a breathless wheeze from the monster, and then a new pair of legs appeared in the opening. A hand came next, and Marco almost refused it before he recognized the voice and shag of hair that accompanied it.

“Come on, Marco, we’re gonna get you out of here.”

Jean was gentle and cautious, his tone still sharp as usual but more aware of the situation and who he was talking to. That, mixed with the assurance of safety and escape, brought their hands together and helped him out. He had to step close to the shifter, due to the proximity of the monster, but Jean was nice enough to guide him away from the wreckage. One hand was gripping the machete from his back sheath, but the other was free to hold on and lead him away. The obvious signs of battle behind them—orders being thrown and the cutting of weaponry into monster flesh—almost convinced Marco to turn around, but the insistent pull on his hand stopped him.

“Don’t look behind you,” Jean advised. His grip tightened slightly. “You don’t wanna see them.”

Eren was waiting at the edge of the forest that opened up to the lake, one foot tapping impatiently. Without saying a word between them, Jean let go of Marco’s hand and allowed Eren to scoop him up into his arms. Marco jumped as his feet left the ground, only to dangle over tan arms, and he locked his fingers behind Eren’s neck to steady himself. Jean looked at him expectantly as if he wanted to say something, but he walked back towards the fighting instead. Eren turned around and started to run over the lake. It was not the blurring speed that Marco had become accustomed to seeing him perform in, but it was certainly fast enough for his feet to run over water, past human possibility.

“What’s going on?” He asked as they curved over the water’s surface and towards the beginning of the obstacle course.

“I told Levi and the exec board about the Titans,” Eren answered. He slowed once he reached solid ground, though he was definitely in a hurry to get away quickly. “A helicopter squad is heading out to see where the break is.” They stopped at the metal door that connected them to the arena, and he kicked it with his shoe before he looked back at him. “They didn’t get here without one.”

Titans, if that’s what they were really called, sounded like a fitting title to them. They were not human, though they looked like it, and they were larger than the trees in the forest. But their origin was a secret to him, and if Eren was trying to imply something, he missed it.

Petra, from Levi’s team, opened the door and ushered them in. “How many were there?” She asked, her tone crisp and commanding. She began walking almost immediately. Eren still held Marco close to his chest.

“I didn’t get a good look, but 006 went back to continue fighting,” 005 explained.

“What about 007?” The two pair of eyes locked onto Marco expectantly. He knew what they wanted to hear, but he would be lying if he announced it. The only answer he could offer was the opposite of their expectations.

“I-I wasn’t fighting,” he admitted. “But it sounded like there were a lot of them.”

“Where were you?” Petra wondered.

“Ber—” Eren poked him at the back of his knee, a small reminder for how he should address the subjects. “003 found a place for me to get out of sight. I only heard them fighting.”

“You did your best,” Eren confirmed. He smiled reassuringly to boot and adjusted his grip. “And you made it out okay, so you can relax now.”

Levi stood in the middle of the arena, talking to Eld quietly and pacing back and forth. When he saw them, Eren hurried his pace to reach him. He set Marco back down on his feet and grinned at his superior. “I brought him back, like you asked,” he stated with a smile.

Levi nodded and turned to Marco. “Did you make direct contact with them?”

Marco answered quickly, not wanting to dwell long on the thought. “There was one who knocked over a tree and grabbed me. I think he…” He gulped and continued, hoping he wasn’t sounding as insane as he believed himself to be, “I think he wanted to eat me.”

Levi bristled, and suddenly the professional in his voice dropped. He spoke tenderly and cautiously, like a parent reassuring their child it was a bad dream. If only the circumstances were just as easy. “They can’t get to you in here. The others won’t allow it and neither will I. You’re safe now.”

“Will I have to go back out there again?”

“I’ve already canceled the upcoming outer exercises. You don’t have to worry about that, alright?” Levi gently pushed on his shoulder so that he sat down, and a moment of hesitation flickered on his features before he took off his suit jacket and neatly draped it on the ground. He sat cross-legged on the jacket, right across from Marco. “Eld, Petra, will you report back to me when you hear back from the group in the chopper?”

The duo left without any hesitation; Eren suddenly left his side, but when Marco turned to find him, he hesitated to continue. Maybe he felt bad— _pity, petty_ —or saw how shaken he really was. Regardless of the cause, it was enough to convince Eren to come back to his side with a sigh.

“You should take a nap,” he suggested. “You look deadass tired.”

“That’s not very encouraging,” Levi remarked.

Eren stuck his tongue out and sat beside Marco. “You’re just mad because you’re sitting on the dirty ground.”

“Don’t taunt me, kid. You’ll regret it.”

Marco scooted closer to Eren and rested his head on his shoulder. He was nervous to move in his personal space, but a pat on the head assured him of his decision. Eren’s hand was gentle in his hair, running through the locks thoroughly. He kissed his temple and rested his head against his in return. The tender affection convinced him of his safety, and Marco slipped into a relaxed slumber.

When he woke up, he had a crick in his neck and a soft periwinkle blanket draped over his shoulders. Levi informed him of the other subjects’ return and suggested a shower, with advice to return to the arena tomorrow. Eren tugged on his hand and led him to the showers, chatting lightly about the return of the other subjects.

“They got them all,” he confirmed. “There was a hole in the fence, but it’s fixed now. We gotta wait a few days before going back out, though. Erwin’s sending out some scouts to check out the outer areas and make sure no one’s trying to compromise us.”

They took their showers and returned to their living space on the upper floor, welcomed by their fellow teammates. Their conversations were anything but the previous events, some jeering with one another while the calmer ones talked softly. Jean sat in his usual corner, knees curled up to his chin and blond hair dark from the shower. His book was unopened at his feet; the title, a common horror novel, was reflected by the light. Marco sat next to him gingerly and said nothing. After a moment, he slid closer and sat back on the couch, shoulder to shoulder with Jean. Words didn’t have to be shared; at that moment, silent company was good enough.

Jean bowed his head and smiled: once when their shoulders touched, and twice at Marco’s face when a slice of cake was delivered to him during dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few notes:
> 
> -Eren speaks Spanish in the earlier part of the chapter; "sexto cerdo" is "sixth pig" for those who are not fluent (or didn't use Google to help out like I did hahaHA). And "crétin" is a French equivalent for "dumbass."  
> -The dialogue in complete italics is Jean, or Marco, speaking via psychic network.  
> -From here on out, the subjects will use numbers in different languages as nicknames for one another. So Jean would be "seis" and Marco is "siete" OR "six" and "sept" if you wanna be French. ;)  
> -The book Jean had at the end is a Stephen King book. His novels are spoopy and he has a fantastic Twitter.


	6. Shell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After coming out of his own comfort zone, Marco must do the (supposedly) impossible and help a friend in need. The only problem is, how can he help if he can't reach him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop had a minor problem during the middle of this chapter, and mobile annoys me, so I had to be patient while everything went back to tiptop shape. But now the next chapter is like halfway through, so it should be out soon, right?
> 
> Like I promised last chapter, and maybe slightly spoiled, this is the start of the JeanMarco relationship. It's gonna be super good, maybe, and definitely worth all the trouble they get in. Oh shucks.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

In the three months that passed, Marco didn’t see or hear any word on the mysterious monsters again. The day after the attack on the facility, Levi simply told him that they were wild beasts that broke through the bordering electrified fence. The other subjects’ reactions stated otherwise, but they never elaborated for him. Maybe they forgot to, since the session that followed after ended in all seven of them being tired and barely able to move off the floor. But Marco didn’t think it was right to pry on the topic either way. It looked too sensitive for a casual discussion.

Instead, he kept the questions about the tall monsters at the back of his mind, for now, and let himself get close to his six comrades. They advised him when he needed it and chided him for failing to ask for help. At times, they were surprised at how quickly he caught onto things—he had always prided himself on being a fast learner, and now it was put to good use. When he performed for the quarterly exams, to reveal how he was faring and what he had learned, he received as much praise. Levi expressed how proud he was, and Hanji teased him for sounding like a parent.

Marco noticed, however, that while his teammates were allowed to watch each other’s exams from the control room, adjacent to the locker room, they were forced to leave when Jean was up next. No one had an explanation for it, because they themselves were equally as clueless. Jean had been with them for six months before Marco turned up. He had one quarterly exam and made the same request. No one was told why, and no one received an answer when they asked.

Four months living in the facility and each day saw Marco becoming more advanced with his ability. His hesitation in using it was lessening, and he became familiar with it enough to learn how to properly handle it. If he knew an object’s location well enough, he could hold a hand in the air and have it dropped in his palm. Flying, despite the short time in the air, was becoming easier to handle as well. Unlike Jean, who relied on wings, he was able to keep his body in the air just like he could any other object. He enjoyed zooming around the arena during freelance training with Eld.

After a suggestion from Moblit, Hanji’s assistant and the teacher of their course on kinetic theory, Bertholdt had offered to practice combining powers with him when the weather was nice. Rene from Mike’s team was just as enthusiastic for the practice as well, helping the two boys plan their exercise. Water was a simple enough element, and Bertholdt wasn’t going to rush into things. Like the power he controlled, he was steady and calm, cool in his disposition and willing to work to his companion’s comfort level. Anyone else wouldn’t have taken the time to forgo the extra details, but Bertholdt pushed for them.

It was nice to work with Bertholdt. He went slow and didn’t mind going over the same move twice. His attention stayed on Marco the entire time, even when Annie or Reiner stopped by to say hello and poke fun at them. Reiner often stayed longer, sometimes watching begrudgingly or providing tips of his own. It was helpful, but it was also suspicious. Marco could only assume that Reiner was jealous Bertholdt wasn’t spending as much time with him. There could have been some romantic intentions, but that might have been a side effect to hormones.

There was one day, their sixth day of practice, that Reiner didn’t come running by immediately. The duo pushed it off with relief and proceeded for the day, this time with Rene and Moblit watching them. They did basic tricks—water sloshing from one sphere of energy to another—and showed off the level of intensity they could reach—Bertholdt, with the help from his wooden staff, creating a pond-sized sphere of water in the air and Marco stopping it at every turn. Their teachers were amazed at the spectacle and gave their approval to try out the same moves with other kinetics before departing, leaving the two to their own devices.

“I think they were impressed,” Marco remarked in glee. He gathered his own ball of water with a raise of his hand and juggled it around the surface of the lake. The giddy feeling of doing right stretched out from his core to every part of his body. His rings were spinning enough to hum in the background.

Bertholdt sheathed his staff and put it aside so it wouldn’t get in the way, a small smile on thin lips. “If you ask me, they were more impressed with you,” he said. Marco dropped the water back in the lake and Bert gathered up a stream to slither in the air.

“What makes you say that?” He stretched out on his stomach and pushed tiny imprints into the water.

“They already know what I can do.” Bertholdt spoke with so much sadness weighing his voice down, Marco had to look up and find out what had him so down. “I’ve been here for nearly four years. I forgot the sound of my family’s voice and I can barely speak Hebrew. Nothing I do on my own can surprise them.”

“It surprises me.” Marco scooted closer to him and broke the stream of water with a wave of his hand. Bert scowled at him. “And I bet Reiner and Mikasa feel the same way. They’ve been here for a long time too, right?”

He scoffed at his response. “Fire excites everyone because it’s so dangerous, but Mikasa handles it with so much grace. And Reiner can make an earthquake without the help of his hammer, so he can always take someone by surprise.”

“You’re not stopped by anything!” The volume startled the blue-haired boy, but he continued on. “Fire gets put out by water, and ground is just something else that water can run over. If you asked me,” Marco smiled and nudged him gently, “you’re the most powerful of us all.”

Bertholdt couldn’t restrain a smile, and he laughed quietly under his breath. “I don’t think I could ever overpower anyone.”

Marco, satisfied with the loss of sadness, shrugged and rolled over onto his back. “Maybe not, but the threat’s still there.”

“You’re surprisingly devious.”

“Shh, it’s a secret.”

The duo continued on for a bit longer, at first practicing some more but then toying around and cutting the other off, and before too long, it escalated into a battle of who can splash more water onto who. Bertholdt ended up winning with a wave that rose past his chest and was powerful enough to knock him off his feet, but Marco couldn’t find it in himself to care. The taller boy was smiling, his body quickly drying and absorbing the water, his blue hair grown out enough to shield moss green eyes.

Marco took the hand offered to him and smirked. “Looks like you can overpower someone,” he teased. The hand pushed him away and flicked droplets of water on his face.

“Hey.”

The two turned at the voice to find Reiner standing nearby, watching intently and crossed arms fidgeting. At one point, he and Bertholdt had been the same height, but he had excelled past 003 in the past month. Hanji stated that he would probably stop growing after that, but he refused to admit it.

When the two brought their attention to him, Reiner scuffed his feet and raised his shoulders defensively. Marco noted how his shoulders had also grown broader, and his muscles were thickening. He was as firm as the earth he controlled, as sharp and as bold as the rocks he could toss. Combined with the dirt that was constantly clinging to his body, perhaps he was becoming his ability.

“I, uhh,” Reiner cleared his throat, scratching his neck nervously, “I thought I’d find you two here.”

“Is everything okay?” Bert prompted. Reiner jumped at his voice and smiled.

“Yeah, everything’s great! I just—” Another throat clear, another shuffle of his feet. “Well. Uhh, Levi wanted me to tell you guys that we’re gonna train in pairs tomorrow. Eren came down with something, and he’s gonna be out for a couple days.”

“Is he okay?” Marco frowned.

“Yeah, he should be—it’s a power-related sickness, I think, but we all get them, so it’s not a big concern.”

“Then what is the big concern?” Reiner hesitated to answer, but his eyes flickered between him and Bertholdt. Combined with the attention 002 had given them over the past few days, it wasn’t too hard to figure out what was going on. Marco held back a knowing smirk, already planning on how he was going to sneak it into conversation. “You said we’re working in pairs tomorrow?”

At the mention of tomorrow, Reiner perked up and nodded. He dropped his crossed arms, one raising up to tangle in his hair as he gave a breathy chuckle. “Yeah, I was, um, coming to ask Bert about that.” He looked directly at Bertholdt. “Because I was wondering if he would be my partner.”

“Oh,” Bertholdt said. A small blush ran to his cheeks, but he held up a hand to cover one side. “Uhh.”

“Jean said he wanted to work with Mikasa, and Annie said she was gonna ask you when you came back, but I wanted to be the first to ask.”

“Because you work well together?” Marco wondered. His voice was teasing, and he knew the two could hear it. It only added to one’s flushed face and the other’s anxious feet.

“Y-yeah. That. And I…” Reiner bit his lip, but a smile emerged despite his restraint. “I like working with Bert.”

Bertholdt bowed his head, probably to hide the grin on his face. “I would have wanted to work with you even if Annie asked first.” Reiner gulped at the statement. “So…yeah. I’ll be your partner.”

Reiner laughed in relief. “Nice! Good!” Marco smiled and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Anyone outside of their realm would have thought they asked to be each other’s prom date. They were ridiculous and grossly charming at the same time. “We can, uhh…we can talk later.”

“You can talk now,” Marco offered. He started to head towards the facility, glancing over his shoulder at the duo. Bertholdt was wide-eyed in shock, jaw opening and gaping like a goldfish. “I need to read up on Nanaba’s lesson, anyway. You’ll have no interruptions.” His wink to the two only added to both of their embarrassment, and with a joyful laugh, he opened the door to lead him back to the arena. Annie, Mikasa, and Jean were standing in the corridor and stood back to let him through.

“Did he ask him?” Annie wondered. The looks of anticipation on their faces, in varying degrees of clarity, was enough to make Marco laugh. He wasn’t the only one who had seen the shy glances or heard the late-night talks on the couch.

“Bert said yes,” he smiled. “I thought they were gonna kiss, but I think they needed me to be away for that.”

“I hope you’re joking,” Mikasa said. Her tone was weary, almost in the way she spoke when talking about the members of WOF’s exec board. “I’ve been trying to get them there since Reiner said Bert has a cute nose.”

“They’re disgusting,” Annie snorted.

“His nose is better than yours.”

“I’ll ice your ass  _ and _ your scarf.”

Marco briefly wondered if the two girls were oblivious to how similar their behavior could be, or if they truly disliked one another. But he had little time to dwell on the thought or even a plan before Jean was stepping forward and poking him in the chest.

“Now that you got that out of the way,” he declared, “we’re gonna be partners tomorrow.”

Whoa.

“Wow,” Mikasa said as Annie snickered. “You’re just as smooth as they are.” She looked at Marco in passing, the blonde girl patting his shoulder. “Good luck with him. He means well, even if he is a little blunt.”

Marco tried to form words for a response, but the two girls were gone before he could say anything. Jean was still standing in front of him, gaze wavering slightly but keeping his stand. “I thought you,” Marco began, but he shut up quickly and rubbed his head. Jean wanted to be his partner tomorrow during training. That thought shouldn’t have sent butterflies into his stomach.

“When Levi told us about partnering up tomorrow, Annie thought it was the perfect chance to see just how lovestruck Reiner is and how oblivious Bert is,” Jean explained with a sigh. “I think it was just to help Mikasa, because she’s worried about Eren, and she needs something to distract her, or else she’ll just spiral.”

“You wanna be partners,” Marco mumbled, “with me?”

Jean huffed. “I already said that, loser.”

“But you don’t like working with anyone.” He had seen as much in similar workouts. Sometimes, Levi would schedule training sessions with certain subjects. Every one that Jean was involved in, he resisted and refused to follow the guidelines. “And Reiner said you were asking—”

“Mikasa, who doesn’t want to work with me. I know.” He paused before he continued, shoulders scrunched up and his lip curled. “When I first got here, she was the only person I wanted to work with, because she has pretty hair and the most experience.”

“Wow.”

“Shut up, you know it’s true.”

Marco knew that they shouldn’t make partnering up sound so alike to asking someone out on a date. But he couldn’t help but add and compare it to his observations. They had gotten close enough to be called friends, at least in Marco’s book, but he also noticed the little things that confused him as to what their relationship was. They sat together on the couch in their free time or at meals without a second thought; they had small inside jokes that delivered laughs, but they were just as comfortable in soft silence; and sometimes, one of them would pass by with a light touch or word of encouragement that never failed to make the other smile. Jean was more prone to hiding it, however—as soon as he saw the joyful look on Marco’s face, a tiny celebration of completing a rare feat, he would frown and stick his tongue out.

Jean was a puzzle, and a grouch, and a mystery, but he was genuine, and smart, and he was worth it. Marco genuinely liked being his friend.

He smiled at Jean and nodded his head. “Sure thing, partner.”

Amber eyes lit up in recognition, but Jean hid any happiness from his face and scoffed instead. “You’re so fucking corny.”

“I haven’t had any corn today, but I heard Wagner’s making it for us tonight.”

“If you say another word, I’ll kick you out.”

Marco relished in the moment. Jean let a small smile slip when he thought he wasn’t looking, and he basked in the thought that he had been the cause. After all, no one else had ever been asked by Jean except for one, and she had never felt the same. Marco promised to himself that he would make it worthwhile.

The next day, the six went through with their usual routine on the day of one of Levi’s training sessions: stretch, eat breakfast, find the appropriate clothes that were somehow buried under other sets, and arrive at the arena. Eld or Petra often greeted them before they reached the locker room, mostly for a head count and to review any specific goals or requests for the day. In the background, from the other room, Auruo tried to run the machinery and Gunther stopped him from crashing the entire system.

“Today, because of 005’s absence, you’ll be working in groups of two,” Petra clarified. “Levi will be down shortly, so you guys can go right in once you’re ready and start.”

“Is there anything specific you need us to do?” Reiner asked.

The redhead shook her head. “Not that I know of. It sounded like a freelance type of day.”

“Levi did mention working on weaknesses and strengths,” Eld remarked. “It’s easier to notice when you point it out for each other.”

“I have no problem with that,” Annie stated. Mikasa, her partner, bristled at the comment but didn’t reply.

Petra’s eyes narrowed. “Just because you’re down in numbers doesn’t mean you can destroy the arena. We still intend to use it while 005’s gone.”

Eld smirked and nodded. “We can always cut the partners rule, if you aren’t gonna follow the basics.”

No one had a protest, and the six were dismissed and headed to the lockers. Marco stole a peek at the arena by pushing the door open a pinch and noticed how it was divided. Three spaces were sectioned off by looming borders that were admittedly a bit puzzling as to how they got there in the first place. A few of the standard metal containers were stacked up, one set leading up to a high point.

“We actually get some privacy with each other?” Reiner whistled over his shoulder. “That’s new.”

Marco shrugged and shut the door. “Maybe it’s to help us focus on our partners.”

“At least I won’t have to look at any of your faces,” Annie sighed, her tone already mocking.

Reiner laughed as he walked past her. “Nope. You just get to stare at one—but hey, that’s not too bad, is it?”

Mikasa continued as she was, but the small halt in tugging on her sneakers was unmistakable. Annie sputtered and shoved him, voice leveled but face betrayed by a faint tint of pink. “What do you know, blockhead?”

The bickering continued out in the arena, where Bertholdt had to physically insert himself between the two in order to avoid a brawl. Reiner was complicit until Annie mocked him further, something about how quick he was to bend to the taller boy’s will, and then Mikasa had to step in. Marco would have helped if it hadn’t been for Jean, who had been quiet and standoffish since breakfast. All of the subjects were withdrawn in the morning, seeing as waking up early to start the day was not their idea, but they usually got better once they finished breakfast. However, Jean had stayed in that grumpy mood, which, despite being his default, was not a good sign.

“Hey,” Marco walked over and nudged his arm gently, “you okay?” Jean didn’t make eye contact. The other two groups left to their own spaces, leaving the two alone in their own sanction. “Jean?”

“Leave me alone,” he snapped. With a final huff, he crossed his arms and turned away from him. “We’re stuck together until the training ends, but you should do something so that you don’t get in trouble for not participating.”

Marco was floored by the response. Just last night, before retreating to their bedrooms, they had talked about what to do in their session. And now, suddenly, Jean wanted nothing to do with him. He couldn’t think of what he had done wrong, nor could he pinpoint something that could lead to his attitude change. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted to—”

Jean twirled to him and cut him off before he could finish. “Look, I don’t want to work with you anymore. Just take it as your answer and go away.” With a final grumble to symbolize the end of the conversation, he stomped off to the border of their section. He gave Marco no chance to get his own word in.

The change in behavior had to be a sudden development that happened overnight. The last thing Marco remembered talking to Jean about was how to combine their powers. Unlike the other kinetic-based abilities, which worked with specific elements, telekinesis was reliant on pure energy and required a little creativity. It had resulted in more time for them to talk, though they weren’t always productive. And Jean had a nice laugh whenever Marco made a joke, even if it was accompanied by a playful kick to the shin or a shove on the shoulder.

The four other subjects had already commented on how rare it was for Jean to willingly work with someone. But Marco refused to join their ranks. If anyone could make it work out and get to Jean, he could be the one.

“Hey, Jean?” He called out. No answer. “Jean!” When he didn’t even receive a glance, Marco levitated a few feet off the ground and glided over to him, floating in front of him so that he was guaranteed eye contact. “You can’t ignore me.”

Jean snarled at him and turned away again, but Marco just followed him. “Cut it out! I already told you, I don’t wanna work with you anymore.”

“You wanted to yesterday.”

“It’s a new day. I changed my mind.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, I understand. But you don’t have to hide from me either.” Marco rotated in midair, belly up and head leaned back to look at his partner. He smiled in hope to ease the tension. “I’m here to listen.”

Jean frowned and didn’t react further, his expression seemingly set into stone. He was unamused by Marco’s antics, but he would just have to deal with them or give in. 007 wasn’t going to let the spiked wall of seclusion come between them again. 

Suddenly struck with an idea, Marco spun upright and crossed his legs. He held out a hand to expand three blue spheres of energy and began to juggle them. He had never learned how, so two of the balls dropped instantly on the ground and dissipated on contact. The third one just barely managed to land in his grasp again, thanks to a mid-air dive. Jean didn’t respond.

He put some distance between them, and there was some slack in his expression, but not enough for celebration. Marco took a deep breath and released it before he flipped forward in the air three times. He was still new to flying, so while his ability to get himself in the air had grown, he was still getting used to his body’s movement. Instead of staying afloat, once he straightened up, he was dropped on his rear with an “oof.”

Jean cleared his throat, and Marco looked up in time to see a smile quickly rearranged back into a scowl. That was victory enough to motivate him back in the air and give talking another try. Maybe, if he worded his sentences right, he could reassure him of whatever had changed his mind and attitude.

“You know,” Marco mused, stretching out his limbs so he could float horizontally and rest his arm under his head, “flying is kinda like swimming. Wanna know why?”

His audience blinked once, disinterested but listening.

“Because you make waves.” He flapped his free arm to make his point. “See? Waves!”

A pause, to let the joke and gesture sink in, and then Marco saw the slip: a bite on the lip, followed by a flash of mirth in amber eyes. He was stubborn, but he was reachable.

“Why did the tiger lose at poker?”

He waited this time, curious to see if he would get a response. Jean shut his eyes and sighed quietly. “Why?”

“Because he played with a cheetah.”

A snort, more in disinterest or disbelief but still enough to earn a cheer from Marco. Jean looked away as soon as he did, eyes narrowed, but he struggled to bring the smile down. “You’re playing dirty.”

Marco spun once and laughed. Almost instantly, he wanted to prove him wrong. Valencia—his sister—used to crack at a silly face he would make for her. Hearing her laugh filled him with joy, able to share her loud, free giggles. Perhaps, if he tried hard enough, something similar could happen with Jean.

“Telling jokes isn’t dirty,” Marco protested. He flipped over to his stomach and smirked. “ _This_   is how you play dirty!” He crossed his eyes and pursed his lips, making a kissing sound as he did. He started laughing halfway through and had to stop, but the familiar jovial sounds from his companion were answers on their own. “Hey, you laughed!”

Jean looked up at him and smiled without restraint, shy and small as it was, but still there. “You’re a dork, Marco.” It was said affectionately, wispy and warm, and then his expression, his smile and the glint in his eyes, was gone. Marco dropped back down on the ground and waited for anything. He was concerned, albeit thankful for some type of reaction. It meant that they could reach some type of mutual understanding.

“I’m sorry,” Jean spoke up, “for being an ass earlier.” Although there was barely a height difference between them, in that moment, he looked much smaller.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Marco tried to assure him, but he received a scoff for his efforts.

“I had no reason to treat you like shit, and you wanna say that?”

He shrugged; “I’m sure you had your reasons. It looked like something was on your mind anyway.” Worried that it sounded too alike to a demand for a confession, Marco added, “And you don’t have to tell me anything. I’m just saying that…you can, if you want to.”

Jean was silent for a minute, fidgeting with his hands idly and bowing his head, before he gave an answer. “We should sit down,” he whispered. “It’s a long story.”

Marco plopped down instantly and crossed his legs, Jean more cautious in following him. He was going to be there for his friend and listen to him. It was already obvious that admitting something was wrong in the first place was difficult for him. He needed all the support and attention that Marco could give.

“So, I…” He exhaled, cleared his threat, and started again. “I was in a park, too, when my DNA changed. In Trost, south of Jinae. I was climbing a tree and, out of nowhere, my body just…erupted with this weird tingly feeling. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, and my brain was just telling me to  _ go _ . And then I fell back, out of the tree, and landed as a cat.”

“Like a pet?” Marco wondered.

“Yeah, a pet.” Jean bowed his head. “I had no idea what I was doing, but something told me that it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t go back to being human, even though I had no idea what had happened to me. So I wandered around. Sometimes, I would change form, like a bird or a dog.” A small smile rose, though it was more melancholy and tender, a bittersweet expression while recollecting. “People love dogs.”

Marco offered a smile of encouragement and nudged him to continue. Although he wasn’t quite sure where Jean was going, he knew that discouraging him would shut him back up without a moment’s hesitation.

“Hanji says that my DNA had been activated for four months before they found me, and it took two to ‘catch’ me. But I don’t remember a lot—time wasn’t important, y’know? Eventually, I just crossed paths with the subjects, but I would just change form and get away. They didn’t even know if I was human, but they knew I was the source of their energy.”

“Why did it take them so long to catch up to you?” He asked, wishing that he hadn’t interrupted his next thought and risked it all. Thankfully, Jean smirked and continued before he could dwell on it.

“Because I was better than them. Eren could run fast enough to stop me, but I just got small enough to get out of his grasp. The longer I stayed an animal, the more things I could change into. I was always three steps ahead of them.” His smile faded, and he dropped back into sadness. “Until I wasn’t.” Jean took a moment to breathe, his fists clenched into his shorts as if to hold himself down. “I don’t remember all the details, but I know that they did…something. Like an electric zap, or an earthquake—whatever was strong enough to force me back into a human. The other subjects don’t know what it was, and the execs won’t say anything.”

“Were you okay?”

Jean shrugged half-heartedly. He raised a hand to grip the rectangle on his chest. At his touch, the screen lit up and displayed a list of things that were too small and too far for Marco to read. “I don’t know. They chased me here, and once I was down, Hanji put this on me.” Jean gestured to the rectangle on his chest. “They call it a morpher. While the subjects were out looking for me, the execs developed it to see if they could get me in a human form. I don’t think they knew I was human—maybe because the energy was the same as the others before me—but…”

“It helped.” Marco scooted closer to him. “You’re human.”

“Yeah, sure. But I can never take the morpher off. It has to keep me in this state so that I can have some form of control over my power. I would even say I need it to stay alive. Otherwise, I’d be flickering.”

“Flickering?” It was the first time he had heard the phrase used in that context. His first few months as 007 had opened his mind to a number of things, yet flickering was not one of them. It sounded vaguely familiar, but if anyone had mentioned it to him, it hadn’t been for very long or in any extensive detail. “Is that what happens when our DNA changes?”

Jean looked hesitant to continue. He stared back down at his feet and pulled his knees up to his chest. “Sorta. Flickering is the process of going from a regulated state of mind to…” He looked around them briefly, as if to make sure no one else was listening, “to the highest power we can achieve. Hanji said it’s like we release every piece of energy in our bodies. We start out like that, when our DNA changes, because it’s trying to process everything at once.”

“How do they know for sure? I mean,” Marco scoffed and scratched the back of his head, “none of us are like that right now.”

“I am.”

The short answer, the two-worded confession, stunned him to silence. It reminded him that there was still more for him to learn. He wasn’t allowed to assume anything. In the world of the Wings of Freedom, in his new life, four months was barely groundbreaking.

Jean’s voice grew angry and sharp, tired of the story he was telling but continuing regardless. “If I take off the morpher, even for a second, my human form will crumble under the pressure and change me back into an animal. You and the other kinetics can access that much power whenever you want. When I first came here, I ditched the morpher and escaped. I accidentally let twenty Titans—those giant, naked monsters—onto the grounds, and now Erwin has a robotic arm because of it. The Wings of Freedom helped me return back to my human form, but for what?”

Marco wished that he could answer. Jean looked so desperate for one, withdrawing into himself the longer they sat in silence. There was no way, with his friend diving deeper into his sorrow, that he could allow him to continue down that hole. “I can’t answer that for you. But I know that if I was in your place, I would feel the same way.”

Jean glared at him. “What’s that supposed to do for me? Compared to you and everyone else, I’m useless. My entire life is held together by the morpher. I can’t transform into an animal without turning into it completely. A-and the best I can do to help my team out is to change into a fucking cat. Is that _useful_ ?”

“To me, it is.” Marco cut himself off before he could continue, but the surprise on Jean’s face kept him going. If he had to show this boy—who was just as scared and lost as he was, if not more—that he was worth it, then so be it. “I don’t like being telekinetic. Maybe I’ll change, but right now, it’s not fun. But it isn’t fun to stay in that state of mind.”

“It’s easier.”

“But do you like it?”

Jean didn’t answer. He bowed his head and rested his chin on his knees instead.

“Sometimes, yeah, it is easier. But you, Jean, have so much more to you than those things you don’t like. Everyone does. It’s up to us to recognize it for ourselves.”

Though it was muffled and shy, Jean glanced up at him through the hair hanging in his face. “What do you see?”

Marco gave a chuckle and shrugged. “I see a lot. You read like you’re on a time limit, you’re agile and move like water, you—” He paused to smile and laugh. He felt that he could go on for hours. “You helped me get away from the monsters. And when I first came here, you stayed with me, even though you were hurt.”

Jean snorted and nudged his leg with his foot. “You weren’t supposed to know about that.” There was a light blush on his cheeks, but he hid it as best he could, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Thanks for saying that, though.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Friends are there for each other—and I didn’t say all of that just because we’re friends. I meant it.”

He faltered slightly at his words, biting his lip. “We’re friends?”

Marco eyed him cautiously. “I think we are.”

Jean’s expression sprouted in a mixture of relief and glee, laughing under his breath. “I think so too.” He jumped to his feet with newfound vigor and held out a hand to help Marco stand. Beaming, he hopped up beside him. As soon as they were at eye level, Jean squeezed his hand tightly. “Thanks for listening to me, by the way. And for, y’know, saying all those things.”

He sighed and shook his head, trying not to laugh. “I thought I told you that you don’t have to thank me.”

“Well, I did, so…” Jean poked his shoulder. “Deal with it, why don’tcha.”

Giggling, Marco poked him back. It was good to see a lack of tension and some type of life brought back. His eyes gleamed with it, and he moved as if there were no weights on his shoulders. It was a refreshing sight. “Do you wanna try the wall climbing we talked about?”

“You think it’ll work?” Despite the hesitance in his tone, Jean pulled his morpher out of the slot. Marco noticed that it was attached to an elastic cord, which disappeared within the boy’s chest. He didn’t want to think about how the morpher got there, or even how it worked, in the first place.

Then again, he should do more than stare and wonder on impossible things. Like answer his question. “It’s worth a shot. I’ll even curve it a little so you can get on it.”

Jean snorted and pressed something on the morpher’s screen. “I hope you’re right, psychic.” And with a familiar light surrounding his body, Jean transformed into a tiger. He rubbed against Marco’s legs in greeting and sat down beside him. “ _What are we waiting for?_ ”

Marco understood that it was rare for 006 to want to work with anyone. He promised himself there, raising walls for Jean to jump between and laughing freely to the jokes he told through the psychic network’s link, not to betray whatever trust lay between the two of them. Even if it took every last drop of energy in his body to keep it up, he would follow through for Jean.


	7. Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco knew being a subject wouldn't always be easy. Sneaking around for information that isn't available is just one of those things he'll have to accept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only thing I can say here is "whoops" because  
> A) this update is late because of procrastination  
> B) this update is late because life is hard™  
> C) this update is late because writing what's in your head is hard to transfer to paper
> 
> Anyway, I did the thing! I got through! And I realized how close I am to certain parts of these chapters, whew. I can promise this with certainty though: the plot will thicken and the mystery may or may not waver. Okay, that's not an absolute guarantee, but it's close.
> 
> Another anyway, I hope you enjoy this (late late late) chapter!

For the next two hours, Marco created different types of obstacles for Jean to overcome. He learned how to recognize the spheres of blue energy in their weakest and dimmest state in order to avoid them. Marco experimented by flinging the energy in different forms, from spears to spheres, but had to stop when Jean was nearly hit. A strong enough force could knock him out of animal form and back to human, a painful procedure which was the last thing either of them wanted. And while their banter kept things light between them, Jean eventually got bored and suggested levitation practice. Marco was already trying to raise him in the air in his excitement before the blond finished making the request.

All in all, it wasn’t a terrible thing. Just like Bertholdt, working with Jean came naturally, although he was more forward and more resilient in their training. And even then, Marco felt no hassle in demonstrating his power and did his fair share of reassurance that there was no judgement or fight for dominance. It wasn’t difficult, since once he started showing off, Jean felt compelled to try and one-up him. Marco didn’t put him down for it or discourage him, and he hoped all the effort was adding to their relationship. Trust was something Jean obviously needed, whether he was aware of it or not.

The paired training sessions were scheduled to continue throughout the week. Their next training session, two days later, featured a spiraling obstacle course that traveled up the arena’s round walls and had a button to press when they reached the top. The teams were required to work together to complete it, relying on one another to get through. Levi let them run through it separately before he timed each team, and promised a prize to the duo with the fastest time. Marco and Jean finished a minute behind Annie and Mikasa, to the interests of the other subjects.

“Hey, you two did really well out there,” Reiner said before he and Bert were scheduled to go out. Jean was half-dressed into comfy clothes, and Marco was grabbing waters for them. The latter smiled and thanked him; Jean didn’t respond as he struggled to tug his t-shirt over his head. “I didn’t think you could do it, _siete_ , but you tamed a wild animal. How does it feel?”

The teasing that Jean endured, normally at Eren’s hands but not always a one-person job, was obvious to anyone who spent even a minute in the subjects’ presence. Marco learned quickly that it was something done only because 006 lacked anything useful in their eyes. Now knowing just how unique Jean’s case was, after WOF took two months to bring him to them and forced his dependency on a foreign device, the teasing struck a chord in 007.

Marco frowned as he handed Jean the water bottle. “He isn’t a wild animal, and he doesn’t need taming. He would have done just as fine with anyone else.”

“You’re closer to Jean than we ever could be,” Bertholdt shrugged. He stood close to Reiner, as usual, but his frown told a different story. As far as Marco knew, he had never participated in the teasing.

“Still impressive,” Reiner smirked.

Mikasa entered the locker room from the lounge area and announced that Levi was ready for the final pair. Reiner and Bertholdt left with teases from the former and chides from the latter. As soon as they were gone, Jean gathered up their dirty clothes and headed out the door. Marco followed after him, ignoring what he knew were the light snickers of Annie and Mikasa behind him.

“That was really good, Jean,” he praised. “See? You don’t have to end every argument with a punch.”

Jean stopped at the exit to turn around, his expression unamused. “Yeah, I was super courageous. I sat there and let myself get picked on by an asshole.”

“You think we’re letting him get away with that?” Marco winked and spoke through the psychic link. “ _Wait until dinner._ ”

The blond bit his lip to suppress his smile, but to no avail. “What do you want me to do, drop on my knees and thank you?”

“No, silly.” Marco poked his nose, giggling when Jean struggled to get him back with arms full. “You’re supposed to say ‘you were so right, _sept_ , why don’t I listen to you more often?’

“Over my dead body, I will.” Jean tried to kick the door open; Marco stepped ahead and held it wide for him. As thanks, he received a scoff and a kick to the shin. “You’re a brat.”

Marco gasped in offense and followed after him with a fake frown. “Me, a brat? After all I’ve taught you?”

Without skipping a beat, he barked out a laugh and glared at him. “You teach me a lesson that you’ve said for the past week on repeat, and then you ask for my praise with that smarmy grin on your face and politely open doors for me.”

“Hmph.” He shrugged and walked ahead of him. “If you’re so bothered, I’ll withdraw my services.”

“Fine.” Jean was always bad at hiding the pout in his voice during these type of situations. Marco was never serious when he said such things, and he tried to be as obvious as he could in where his taunts began and ended. And while his friend was aware of those facts, it did nothing to stop the few seconds of thought that the possibility of those taunts turning valid could be true. “I want my money back then.”

Marco hummed in thought for a moment, and with a wave of his hand, he raised the laundry in the air, above Jean’s head and out of his reach. “No refunds.”

“You fucking—” Jean, now hands free, lunged for him and tackled him to the ground. Marco tried to roll over, both hands attempting to shield his sides, but he was too late. Lithe fingers were already tracing invisible patterns over whatever skin could be found. His cackles, head thrown back and legs kicking for freedom, rang down the hall.

After Marco’s promise for a refund and Jean’s gift of mercy, the duo cleaned up the spilled laundry and continued on their way. They were free for the rest of the day and discussed their plans on the way to the laundry room. Between studying for classes and having fun outside, they chose the latter and spent their free time by the lake. When they weren’t chatting, they were chasing each other, a brief moment of freedom to joke around in some form of freedom. When they got tired, they collapsed under a shady tree, side by side, and took a nap.

Marco was glad that he was making a place for himself in his new home. Each day, although he got along with the other subjects, he felt closest to Jean, and he knew the four other subjects noticed it. They hardly said anything within earshot to him, but the wayward glances and conversations cut short proved something. No one had gotten to Jean like he had, to make him take down the spiked wall for a while and breathe and have fun. But if someone were to do it, Marco felt that there was no one else better suited for the task than himself.

The only problem was the lack of Eren that, after a week of silence and zero updates, became a concern. Any questions asked about him, whether it was to an executive member or one of their coworkers, were ignored or shot down. Mikasa, the closest to Eren, asked as much as she could to the point of Levi’s irritation. To make matters worse, their workload increased every time the question was asked. They were given zero time outside of their typical schedule for free time, which led to suspicion and secret conversations on the subjects’ end.

“It’s not an accident,” Mikasa stated before their math class one afternoon. Her views on the overall situation were rigid and unmoving. Eren was the topic of conversation that filled the air between them. She was determined more than anyone to find out what had happened to him. “They’re doing this on purpose.”

“If he was actually sick, they would have told us already,” Annie pointed out. She and Jean were keeping an eye on the door to see when Nifa would arrive. “Something went wrong.”

“He’s been out for a week,” said Marco. “But the execs expect us to not ask questions and mind our business.”

Reiner laughed with zero amusement and spun around in his chair to face him. “Welcome to the world of the lowly subjects, where your life is meaningless unless you can help out the white coats.”

“But how can they justify it? We have a right to know what’s going on with our own teammate.”

“It’s how they work,” Jean answered. Despite his answer, he didn’t look very comfortable at the truth, his shoulders tensing up as he spoke. “We can’t do anything to stop them.”

“That’s what you think,” Reiner mused. He bit on the end of his pencil and leaned back in his chair, enough to lift it off the ground.

“What are you thinking?” Annie asked.

Reiner smirked; judging by the attention given to him, Marco saw that everyone was interested in what he had to say. It went without saying that 002 was the group’s brother figure. It was reassuring, though not very surprising, to see how captivated they all were. “There are two places they could keep Eren: the detox chamber and the infirmary. Being in detox would mean something is seriously wrong. Being in the infirmary means he’s alright, but something sketchy is still going on.”

“I already tried to go see him,” Mikasa pointed out.

“So did everyone else,” Annie shot back. Her comeback was not returned.

“Come on, you guys know better!” Reiner exclaimed. He nearly fell out of his chair and had to steady it back down on four legs. “We’ve all been to the infirmary before. There’s a receptionist at the desk, but they go home at night. So what’s stopping us from going in after hours?”

“Sleep,” Jean replied.

“Our inner demons,” Annie teased.

Reiner frowned at them. “At least I have an idea.” He looked over at Mikasa and smiled; Marco guessed what he was going to say before he did it. Being the closest to Eren, there was no one else who could agree with his plan quicker than Mikasa. “What say you, uno? We sneak into the hospital wing at night and see where Eren is for ourselves. It’s the easiest way to find out where he is and how he’s doing. What do you think?”

Mikasa shrugged, her eyes downcast and hands fidgeting in her lap. The biting of her lip and the shift of her eyes revealed her anxiety. Usually calm and reserved when around others, she was now open for anyone to see. “It’s an idea,” she admitted softly. “And it sounds like it’ll work.”

“You can’t be joking,” Bertholdt sighed, looking between them. “Just because we don’t have a curfew doesn’t mean it’s okay for us to walk around like that.”

“We aren’t gonna walk around,” Reiner corrected. “We’re just going to the infirmary, to look for Eren. If he’s there, great; if not, we’ll go right back to our little alcove and sleep like nothing ever happened.” Bert was hesitant, but a smile from his friend seemed to reassure him. “It’s the only way we’ll get answers to our questions.”

“I’m game,” Mikasa said firmly. She looked at the surprised glances with a dare to refute her. Before anyone could answer or join in, Nifa walked into the room with a friendly greeting and cut off their conversation.

Throughout their lesson, Marco was too distracted by the conversation before class. Reiner’s plan was the only idea they had to finding out more about Eren’s current status, but that couldn’t mean it was their only option. Sneaking around seemed wrong, even if it was to one area. Then again, it wasn’t likely that there were any moral options. This was their one and only chance to see how Eren was doing for themselves.

After their math class and completing two other classes, the subjects went down to the cafeteria for dinner. Wagner, the chef, cooked a surprise meal for them and, as he had done for the past week, put a plate to the side for the missing subject. Conversations at their table were limited, due to the scattered number of workers sharing the area with them, but Reiner made it work. He passed around a slip of paper with simple instructions, asking the four who hadn’t answered earlier if they were on board with the plan.

Bertholdt, resigned, and Annie, begrudgingly, checked yes. Jean hesitated on his answer, tapping the pencil on the table, and nudged Marco for his attention. He gestured to the paper with a nod and switched between the two options, as if to gauge his reaction to them. Marco hesitated to answer and twirled spaghetti onto his fork. He reminded himself that it was their only chance to check on Eren, and he wouldn’t be alone. The subjects were in it together.

Marco nodded, too cautious to give a verbal response. Jean answered for both of them and passed the paper back to Reiner.

Later that night, amidst mingling in their living space in wait, Reiner declared himself leader of the group and led them out of their rooms, pajamas and all. From the way he gathered them together and directed them to the elevator, Marco assumed he knew what he was doing. Or maybe that was simply some of his confidence working overtime to fool them. Regardless of what it was, it brought them to the second floor and led them down the dimly lit corridor as if it was any regular day.

“I thought we were sneaking down here,” Mikasa spoke up.

Reiner looked over his shoulder and smiled. “I bribed a few of the camera operators after dinner to let us pass.”

The confession sent a wave of uneasy static between the group. “Reiner, what did you _do_?” Bertholdt asked, concern littering his features.

“Nothing bad! They just enjoy Wagner’s dirt cake, is all.”

“Keep your voices down,” Annie scolded. The sign for the infirmary was in sight, but a few rooms with shut doors had streams of light peeking out from the bottom. Bribing the security details was one thing, but it didn’t clear them from the rest of the facility.

Marco stepped closer to Jean. “ _Do you hear anything?_ ” He asked using the psychic link. Although conversation was impossible if Jean wasn’t in animal form, he could still hear him, similar to how he could communicate with the other subjects when transformed. 006 caught the hint and looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “ _Down the hall, in the rooms—anything?_ ”

Jean frowned and bowed his head. Marco briefly remembered a conversation they had about transformation ability as a human. As a shifter, he was only able to turn his entire body into a new form despite his attempts to change one part. It was mostly geared towards sprouting a pair of wings, which he believed to be the most essential, but his attempts were futile. Marco hadn’t thought that a sense like hearing would be treated in the same manner.

“ _Hey, don’t worry about it._ ” Jean sent him a glare as if to say _too late_ , but he didn’t move away from him. “ _We can practice that too, if you want._ ” Marco, with Levi as a professional supervisor, had been part of a few private sessions with Jean in an attempt to sprout wings that had ultimately failed. Levi offered to take a blood sample to see if there was something in his genetic code that allowed him to make the change, but he refused in the end. Marco tried his best to encourage the lost attempts, but there was only so much his words could do.

“You’re not the one who’s shitty at being himself,” Jean grumbled at him.

“You’re not shitty,” Marco chided. “You’re trying your best—”

“Hey, quit talking,” Annie interrupted. The six had arrived at the hospital wing, and Mikasa was already inside, walking down the corridor. Reiner and Bertholdt went after her with hushed, cautious whispers. Due to the small amount of subjects, the infirmary was bordered off into two wings. It was originally built with four corridors of rooms, but it was split in half to accommodate workers on the right side.

The reception area was closed, but the lamp on the desk was still lit up. Annie stepped behind it and looked through stray papers. “The receptionist has a list of who’s staying in what room, no matter how long a patient’s stay is,” she said to the two boys. “It can tell us where it is so that Fireball doesn’t burn it down.”

“How do you know that?” Jean scoffed, leaning on the top of the desk.

Annie lifted up a clipboard with a piece of paper on it and pointed to the latest spot. “Because I just found it.” Jean’s eyes narrowed at her as she went down the hall and called out the room number softly to their companions.

“She’s good at sneaking,” Marco remarked. Jean rolled his eyes and shoved past him with a disgusted snort.

At the very end of the hallway, on the right side, Eren was sleeping in a hospital bed. Marco thought it would have been something straight out of a movie, with ominously beeping machines and a body wrought with sickness that brought the six subjects to a slow shuffle to his side. But his expectations were crushed abruptly when he saw little trouble to the scene. Save for a table and chair off to the side, and the very bed he slept on, the room was barren of any signs of comfort. There was a sickly tint to Eren’s features, his skin pale and his fist clenched in the bedsheets, but nothing that justified secrets.

No one spoke for a moment. Marco assumed that their thoughts were just as jumbled, their confusion just as rampant, as his were. He cleared his throat when the silence became too stifling, unintentionally gathering the attention of his teammates. “So, he’s…okay.”

“Something has to be wrong,” Mikasa mumbled. Her voice was tight, as if she was keeping herself in check and trying not to panic. The fire that remained in her hair during nighttime had billowed out from her locks and twirled down her arms. “The execs wouldn’t keep him away without a reason.”

“Would they?” Annie asked. She poked Mikasa’s shoulder with an ice-laden finger, but it melted instantly. “They’ve done shady shit before.”

Mikasa shut her eyes and exhaled slowly. “I’m trying to find an excuse to not fry them.”

“That’s just it, though,” Reiner said. He waved towards Eren with a look of disbelief. “Eren’s in the infirmary—he’s just _sick_. Why would they keep that from us?”

“It must be more than just being sick,” Marco mused. He wasn’t sure where he was going with that train of thought, or if he was even right, but he felt that he should contribute in some way to the conversation. He called himself a friend of Eren’s, after all. “That’s the only explanation for them, right?”

Before anyone could offer an answer, the opening of a door and familiar chatter filled the air. Their heads turned to the source of the sound in near-perfect unison. They knew that voice, from the eccentric and quick speech pattern, and the shadows of a bobbing ponytail and a tall figure were casted on the wall.

Marco had little time to register the firm arm wrapped around his waist and lifting him up. A hand closed over his mouth before he could protest. There was a flash of orange light beside him but he saw little of it before he found himself in the room directly across the hall and ushered under the hospital bed. The hot presence on his side alerted Marco of Mikasa’s presence, though her squirms to break away from Reiner’s towering form above them told him how equally reluctant she was to be there. Marco tried to turn and look at Reiner in question, but the blond shook his head and kept them blocked firmly between his arms.

Bertholdt, Annie, and Jean didn’t join them under the bed. Marco couldn’t remember seeing them retreat, and he felt the worst for them. From what he heard from Mike and Hanji outside, the trio had gotten into hiding just as quickly.

“ _Jean, where are you? Are you safe?_ ” Marco tried to talk to him, hoping to receive an answer. Instead, a shiver ran down his back, and any attempt to reach Jean felt clogged by something, almost like a blocked signal. Jean was unreachable.

“Have you been here recently, Mike?” Hanji asked. It sounded like they were right outside the door. Reiner pulled his feet up as much as he could, to keep them under the bed. Thankfully, there were sheets hanging over the mattress to hide them completely, but being tall still had a disadvantage.

“I haven’t found the time,” Mike replied. In Marco’s experience, he was a giant with a soft demeanor and a brilliant mind. He worked between Hanji and Erwin to archive data for the subjects and update it accordingly. His team ran the system that recorded the stats and provided Levi’s team with the information needed for training sessions, which had resulted in a friendly rivalry of sorts between the two sides.

Hanji scoffed, their feet scuffing in short bursts. “Why, because Levi’s been here?” Mike grunted in acknowledgement, and Hanji gave a loud sigh. “You boys are sad. All this for a silly rivalry over Erwin Smith’s affection?”

“Mm. I think his feelings have evolved. He hates me for fun now.” Hanji laughed, both of their voices drifting away but still in earshot. “My guess is, he’s found someone else to find interest in.”

“He’s not looking for anyone, though. Why would you say that? Here, hold Eren’s wrist for me.” Mikasa’s fists clenched, thin sparks of fire flickering out between her fingers. Reiner reached over and held out his hand, a few rock fragments appearing and dropping on his palm. He passed them over to her, and the rocks began to steam. Without Bert nearby to cool her flames down easily, rock was the next best thing. Marco could use his power, he assumed, but he was too aware of the glow that accompanied it and refused to risk their hiding spot.

“Levi doesn’t tell you everything, Hanji. His pulse is normal.”

“Ah, damn. I expected that. The injection was supposed t—” There was a loud crash behind them, somewhere directly outside their room, and the talking stopped in a second. Mikasa stopped steaming the rocks into obsidian long enough to glance over at Reiner, who was frozen and ready to spring out, arms tightening around their waists and dirtying their clothes from the clumps of unavoidable dirt that wafted off of him. Marco pulled his hands close to his chest in case the glow brought anyone close. Maybe that’s why Reiner had brought them under the bed.

The door shut to Eren’s hospital room, blocking out the rest of the conversation. The trio waited for an all-clear, and then Reiner moved gently off of them. He scooted out from under the bed and waved them to follow. Mikasa passed the rocks back to be crushed into dust. They stayed quiet while they moved out of the hospital wing, treading as silently as they could. It wasn’t until they got to the elevator that they chose to spoke.

“They’re experimenting on him,” Mikasa said in a low voice. The flames returned to weaving in between her hair, but they were untamed, ready to spring out at any posed threat. “Whatever happened, it’s because of them.”

Reiner ushered them into the elevator and scanned his hand on the screen above the buttons. “Tomorrow, we’re getting answers,” he declared. “I don’t care if we have to throw punches or unleash hell on them. We’re finding out what’s happening to Eren.”

“What happened to everyone else?” Marco asked.

Mikasa, guilty, looked away quickly. Thankfully, Reiner was able to answer. “Bert and Annie got in the storage closet. Jean switched to his morpher, but I don’t know what he did.”

Marco frowned at that. If he had shifted forms, where could he have gone? Was he in the hospital room with Hanji and Mike? “I tried to talk to him through the psychic network, but he never answered.”

“He might have shut it off.” He said it so casually, but with equal remorse, he patted Marco’s shoulder for good measure. “It’s nothing personal. You’re his favorite one, after all.”

“Favorite” seemed like a stretch to Marco. But then again, who else was close to Jean like he was?

When they returned to the fourth floor, they discovered that they were the only ones there. Reiner, despite the worried biting of his lip and his anxious pacing, reassured both Mikasa and Marco that everyone was alright. It might have been guilt for planning this whole scenario in the first place, but Marco wasn’t going to bring up that conversation and make it worse. So, after grabbing the stuffed bear from his room and a flannel blanket, he curled up in his usual spot and waited.

About twenty minutes later, when Marco was starting to fall asleep on the couch and Mikasa had grown bored of playing with fire and rocks, Annie and Bertholdt entered the room, the shorter holding a wiggling puppy in her hands. As soon as he saw them, Reiner sighed and rushed to them, pulling them into a hug despite Annie’s reluctance.

“You made it out okay?” He asked. “You weren’t caught?”

“We’re fine and safe,” Bertholdt assured him with a soft smile. “We had to wait for them to leave.”

“Bert knocked a bucket over in the closet and made them close the door,” Annie announced. Bert sputtered beside her in shock, but she ignored it and dropped the dog gently back to the ground. “But we had to wait for him anyway.” The puppy yapped in alarm and hopped on the couch, burrowing underneath Marco’s blanket. Annie rolled her eyes, but her words and tone were more sympathetic than she let on. “He tried to turn into something more stealthy, but he got spooked and had to hide under Eren’s hospital bed.”

While the other four shared what they knew, which was just as much as they had left with, Marco peeked at Jean to see the worried expression and sad amber eyes. He softly patted his head, hoping to put his mind at ease. Something inside him sparked, and Jean’s voice entered his head.

“ _I didn’t mean to block you,_ ” he said. He sounded remorseful in his version of an “I’m sorry”, but there was also a layer of untouched anger that wasn’t for him. “ _I was trying to listen to Hanji._ ”

“ _It’s okay_ ,” Marco smiled. “ _Did you find out anything new?_ ”

Jean didn’t answer, whining and burrowing into his lap. Marco, taken aback by the gesture, rubbed his back for comfort. If what he knew could make him this upset, Marco wasn’t sure if anyone should know what it was.

Marco slept with Jean at the foot of his bed, curled up and pressed against his legs. No one said anything, though Marco wasn’t sure if either of them would have been able to comment. They were close friends, but so were Reiner and Bertholdt, and as far as anyone knew, they weren’t sharing a bed. Marco refused to push Jean away though; he needed someone to reassure him of some good, and Marco was just the person to do that.

It wasn’t until two days later, while stretching in the arena and preparing for a full group training, that Levi called Marco to Erwin’s office. There was no explanation, just a demand to follow and not waste anyone’s time. When Levi was gone, Jean pulled him aside and turned into a lizard so he could slide into his pocket. Marco started to protest, mostly because Levi would have his head when he saw him missing, but stopped it before he could finish his statement. Maybe this was related to what Jean heard the other night, though why everyone else wasn’t involved was beyond him.

“ _Comfy in there?_ ” Marco teased as he headed out the long corridor from the arena and towards the atrium. Jean flicked his tail against his leg in protest.

“ _I could have been a spider_ ,” he taunted. “ _Then you wouldn’t be making fun of me._ ”

“ _I’d find a way._ ” Reaching a hand towards his pocket, he carefully rubbed his thumb along the top of the lizard’s head. “ _You’d be surprised at what I can accomplish._ ”

Jean didn’t respond, but he returned the friendly gesture with nuzzles and tail flicks. He stayed quiet until Marco reached Erwin’s office. Hanji was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs and ushered him up with casual, friendly conversation. Before they entered, Jean whispered quietly, “ _Can you promise me something, Marco?_ ”

“ _What is it?_ ” Luckily, Erwin was on the phone, offering a brief smile in greeting. Hanji shuffled around the room and gathered papers together.

“ _Whatever they want from you, don’t do it._ ”

Marco sat in the chair in front of the desk and pondered briefly on the offer. The concern was unexpected, if only because Jean rarely showed vulnerability like that. But it was also suspicious how specific his warnings had been, whether sleeping on his bed or his latest promise. He shouldn’t judge, but still, what was he to do?

Hanji was talking before Marco could come up with his answer. Their word choice and the sound of their voice revealed that he should start paying close attention. “Do you know where Eren is?”

“ _They waste no time_ ,” Jean snorted.

Marco shook his head and bit his lip. Hanji couldn’t have known anything about their late-night trip, right? “No, I don’t,” he answered. “The other subjects and I have been trying to find out for—”

“For a week,” they interrupted. “We’re aware.”

Erwin hung up the phone and finally looked up at him. He smiled as if to remove suspicion of their intentions from Marco’s mind. “Our apologies for removing you from class. We believed this to be a little more urgent, but when we finish, you can report back to Levi.”

“Am I in trouble?” Marco asked. He didn’t have to fake that fear.

“Of course not,” he assured, but his expression didn’t change to accommodate his words. “We just needed to discuss a few things involving Eren.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Jean grumbled, shifting in his pocket.

“ _I know_ ,” Marco groaned. “I don’t see how I can help, but I can try.”

“ _No, you don’t get it._ ”

“ _Wait, what?_ ”

Hanji picked up the top paper from the pile they had accumulated and handed it to him. It was a chart with multiple parallel lines, some crossing and others with ample space between them. “This is data gathered and recorded by my team from your detox and Mike’s from your field test. Levi’s group uses it to create your physical training lessons. I use it to compare the progress you make here.” They pointed to a jagged line that was higher than the rest. “This line shows how strong your abilities are, whether you can currently access this point or not. Your quarterly exams will eventually be added on.”

There was a lot to look at on the paper, but Marco managed to recognize his current state of power, the lowest scribble recorded. He tried not to think about how close his “state during discovery” was to his “highest achievable power”, but they were practically the same line. It was hard to miss or ignore.

“In other words, you’re capable of much more than you are right now,” Erwin clarified. “As you grow and learn, your body will be able to develop and make room for more power. The setbacks are minor—it’s the equivalent of a human cold, if you want to compare. But you—and the other subjects, but especially you, Marco—are capable of much more. We want you to see this now, because what we want from you might be seen as impossible.”

_Oh no._ Marco tried to remain calm, but the looming threat of what was to come only made him more nervous. “What do you need from me?”

Hanji clarified it for him. Seeing them without their jovial spirit in motion was daunting, but also added to the severity of the situation. “We need you to go into the psychic network and activate Eren’s DNA.”

Jean, still in his pocket, flicked his tail and shuffled. Was this the secret he had found out last night? “W-wait,” Marco blinked in an attempt to clear his head, “what are you saying?”

“You’re familiar with the psychic network, aren’t you?” Erwin wondered, failing to acknowledge the confusion. His lips quirked up in a teasing manner. “Levi says you and Jean use it all the time.”

“We have a class on it, a-a-and I know how abstract and difficult it can be to work with, but th-that’s not the problem.” Marco took a deep breath and willed his heart to slow down, clutching the chair for balance. The spinning and humming of his bracelets alerted him to the levitation of said chair, an unconscious move on his part, and he dropped it back down. “Y—” He cleared his throat and started over. “You said I have to go _into_ the psychic network so I can…”

“Activate Eren,” Hanji repeated. Marco wished they would show something more than their stony expression. He was almost convinced it was because they knew who was spying on them last night.

Erwin stood from his chair and opened a filing cabinet behind him. He pulled out a manila folder after a brief search and handed it to Marco. “These are the charts for the other subjects, when we initiated the quarterly exams. We started when we had three subjects, so the charts for Mikasa, Reiner, and Bertholdt will be off from the others, but they’re still accurate for the current time.”

Marco skimmed through the files, taking in the same-colored squiggles and a few different ones on each sheet. It was impressive how much power each of the subjects had under their belt and where their abilities spanned. Annie could turn an entire rainstorm into ice; Bertholdt could shape waves to any size and hold them back. In fact, the subjects with kinetic-based powers all had similar-looking charts, despite the varying degrees of power they were on. Jean’s was different in that the lines were all bunched together and high; a second page was needed just to zoom in on them.

Eren’s was even more unusual, because it had a similar structure to the kinetics: a promise of high power at discovery that was drastically lowered at detox, a gradual rise to more power as time passed. But he wasn’t like the five. From what Marco had gathered, he was quick and strong and incredibly agile, able to move with inhumanly grace, but nothing expanded beyond that. So why would his charts show that he had control of something else?

“Eren has been an interesting case since we found him two years ago,” said Erwin after Marco handed the folder back. “Everything about his tests have said he’s a kinetic, but we don’t know what that ability is. We believed it’s laid dormant in his body and, for some reason, hasn’t been activated yet. We performed a test at his request to see if he could try and activate it, but he…” The taller exec trailed off, sheepish and possible guilt.

“He collapsed and his entire body nearly shut down,” Hanji finished for him. “He’s stable now, but we know for sure that his true kinetic ability was not activated like it should have been.”

“Okay,” Marco sighed and nodded. He paused to gather his thoughts—so many mistakes from this organization, how were they funded by the _government_ —before he spoke again. “I think I get it. Eren should have been something else, but it wasn’t turned on when his DNA switched. And you want…me? To fix it?”

Hanji nodded. “Not complicated at all.” The familiar mirth and tease to their voice reappeared, but it didn’t match their grave expression.

“I don’t have that much power in me, though.” Marco pointed to his chart. “You said so here! I-I’m like a toddler.”

“You will objects to move without touching them. With your mind. I don’t see what the problem is when you’re the strongest out of anyone.”

“But I’m not perfect. I tire easily, I get headaches, my hands have to move a certain way just to _lift_ something—o-or it’ll move on its own—!”

“We have a way.” Marco stared at them in disbelief, a challenge to their method that had Hanji hopping to their feet and standing over him. “We can generate power in your body, touched or untouched, to bring you through the psychic network and zap the unconscious power to life. When his DNA was changed, his opportunities were limited more than they already are. We need to do right by him.”

“You all have access to the psychic network,” Erwin added. “No matter how invisible to our eyes, we know it stretches as a mental link between all seven of you. But you and Jean are the only ones with direct communication to it. No one else can use it like you two. And luckily, as told by our research, your half is the one that can travel on it.”

“Jean can’t do it?”

Hanji snorted.  They might not have been trying to be rude, but it still came across that way. “Jean is a shifter. He uses the psychic network because animals don’t have vocal abilities like us.”

Marco frowned. “Are you saying he’s incompetent? Because I think you’re wrong.”

Erwin stepped between them, physically and metaphorically, before an argument erupted. “It’s from a scientific standpoint, Marco. You are a kinetic with a strong mind and strong psychic abilities. Jean is a shifter who uses the network in animal form _only_ , as a means of communication. Hanji means no harm.”

“But they don’t have to talk about Jean like he’s worthless!”

“Read the charts,” Hanji pointed out from over Erwin’s shoulder. “I’m not being offensive.”

To make things even between the three, Erwin turned to them and placed a hand on their shoulder. “You’re acting like Levi, and that’s not a compliment. When was the last time you slept?” Hanji crinkled their nose up and huffed. Erwin frowned. “Moblit’s watching him and will report anything that happens, if something happens at all.” When they didn’t respond, Erwin bowed his head and got their attention. “It wasn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing he would shut down.”

“I put the order in. I pushed him.”

“So did I. But he’s getting better, isn’t he?”

Hanji glanced over at Marco, but didn’t stray on him. “If we can get the help he needs.”

Marco wasn’t sure if he was allowed to interrupt them, but he figured it was important enough to warrant some type of conversation. After all, he was the only one who could make this happen. “If it’ll help Eren,” he began, forcing the hesitation down to the pit of his stomach, “and if my power is really needed, then…” Marco sucked in a breath and shut his eyes. Maybe if he couldn’t see, sealing his fate would feel a little better. “Then I’ll do it.”

“ _What?!_ ” Jean shouted, squirming in his pocket. Marco winced at the pressure in his head and, taking a page from his friend’s book, blocked the connection. If Jean said anything else, it wasn’t heard.

Hanji and Erwin turned to him simultaneously, but it was the former who dove forward and caught him by surprise, dropping to their knees and gripping his hands. “Are you positive you want to? The risks are endless—your body is hooked to a machine, your chances of falling ill like Eren are high, not to mention how limited you’ll have to be in the hours— _days_ —leading up to the date—”

Marco couldn’t help but giggle quietly at their frantic banter. “You sound like Levi. But if those are the risks, it’ll be worth it to help Eren.” Hanji guffawed at his response. “Besides, it’s just like every other time I’ve used the psychic network, right?”

“Technically speaking,” Hanji shrugged thoughtfully. “You’d need enough power to bring more than just your words or thoughts to him, since your telekinesis will have to influence his body to activate and accept the dormant power, but—” Erwin tapped their shoulder, a signal to slow down before they went off on five different tangents. “We can discuss that later.”

“You’re sure about doing this, even with the risks that may come along?” Erwin double-checked. “It’ll be hard to pull out of this.”

“Yes,” Marco nodded firmly. “I’m absolutely certain.”

“Then it’s settled.” He smiled and had to dodge Hanji’s arms as they jumped to their feet and struck a pose in relief. “We’ll meet with the other execs to discuss how we can fit it in your schedule, but expect the appointment to happen within a week.”

Hanji grabbed both of his shoulders tightly and stared straight into his eyes. “Thank you.” It was the most sincerity he had gotten from them all day.

Marco was dismissed from the office and walked back to the arena. When he reached the closed-off hallway to the arena doors, something darted out of his pocket and down his leg. He would have cried out in surprise if it hadn’t erupted in light and turned into Jean. Someone he had totally forgotten was hiding in his pocket the entire time. Marco sheepishly unblocked the psychic network for easy passage, though it did nothing for him now, especially with the fierce scowl that Jean was sporting.

“You didn’t listen to me,” he snapped, arms crossed. “I specifically told you _not_ to do whatever they asked you.”

“Is that what they talked about last night?” Marco asked him. He mimicked his pose to match the attitude being shot at him. Already, he wasn’t liking the direction that the conversation was headed.

“I knew Hanji needed you to help Eren out, but they didn’t say how. And if I did, I would say the same thing: you _can’t_ do this.”

Marco frowned at that. Just because they were friends didn’t mean he had to be bossed around. What was his reasoning, anyway? “How come I can’t do it?”

“Because Mikasa’s the strongest one in terms of ability, and she couldn’t even do this. The execs have to hook you up to a _machine_ , just to get enough energy out of you! How is that not suspicious?!” Marco tried to move around him, but Jean pushed him back and kept him from getting by. “Even if it’s for Eren, you can’t do this. Your body can’t handle whatever power they think they can throw at you, and you’ll just flicker out.”

“I appreciate your concern, but it’s hard to believe it’s sincere when you have a bias against the guy in trouble.”

Jean sputtered in shock at the statement, but he quickly turned to anger and glowered. “This has nothing to do with a bias. I know the power they want to use, because my body is in that state at _all_ times.”

Marco snorted, “And it just so happens to be Eren I’m helping out.”

“I’m _trying_ to look out for you. If there was another way to do this, I would be more than happy to support it, but you’re not capable of doing this.”

“What do you know what I’m capable of?” He stepped closer to Jean so that they were chest to chest. The blond dipped back a bit, wavering slightly in his stance but not enough to back down. “I’ve been here for three months and I don’t even know. The execs have to _guess_ what I can do!”

Jean growled and threw his fists at his side. If he stomped his foot, he would look more like a child throwing a tantrum. “You—you don’t get it! Just because you _can_ have that much power doesn’t mean you should!”

Marco was coming up with a retort, but Levi was standing at the end of the hallway, looking impatient and peeved. There was no way he could have missed Jean’s espionage mission, and he looked more than ready to rip him a new one. Marco decided to let their trainer do the yelling; he had more important things to do.

“We don’t have to agree on everything,” Marco pointed out. He moved past Jean, frozen in place, and towards Levi. He kept his head down as he walked through the door. Behind him were two sets of footsteps, heading to the same locker room.

“Have a nice chat with Erwin?” Levi asked, stopping in the doorway and glaring at them. “I’m sure he’ll love to find out why we only had Reykjavik while 007 was at a confidential meeting.”

“I had to pee,” Jean retorted.

“You can tell him yourself, brat. You’re both staying late to play catch-up.”

Marco’s head shot up to look at Levi in shock. “But he wanted me at his office. I have a legitimate excuse.”

Levi scoffed and shrugged, as if to move the excuse off his shoulders. “Did you even try to stop _seis_ from tagging along?”

The day was not turning out in his favor.


	8. Inform

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sudden truths. Disruptive secrets. Mended ties. Marco still has a lot to learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may seem a little odd, and I got a tiny block towards the end, but I think it turned out alright! The rest of the chapter before that is better anyway.

“You wanna tell everyone what happened today, _sept_?”

The rest of the day had been equally as stressful. Levi followed through with his promise and kept both Jean and Marco after the scheduled training session had ended. The other four were brought outside to relax and give the duo their space. Jean didn’t say anything to Marco, though he didn’t expect anything from him. He did catch the furious glares sent to him, however, a familiar sight that Marco thought he had gotten far away from.

When they were finally released for dinner and arrived at the cafeteria, exhausted bodies dragging their feet, the other four had already sat down to eat. Even then, only Reiner and Annie said something in greeting. Bertholdt was talking quietly with Mikasa, who had her head bowed and her flames drawn to an unusual standstill around her neck. Regardless of her state of mind, they usually danced around her neck and breathed life and heat around her. But Marco suspected that Eren’s absence was starting to hinder her: she was practically sitting in Annie’s lap, one of the blonde’s arms wrapped around her waist, and neither of them were making any smart retorts about it.

Jean had pushed past Marco at every chance he took to get food, grabbing the last of something or taking too long to serve himself. It was on purpose, obviously, but it was still wrong and childish all the same. Marco bit his tongue to stop himself from commenting. Jean just wanted to rile him up, something he would do just as quickly with Eren.

It wasn’t until they were seated and got food in their bellies that Jean addressed him verbally, for the first time in hours. And brought the attention of everyone else straight to him, even Mikasa.

“ _Seis_ , stop,” Marco glowered at him from across the table. He knew what Jean wanted, and he refused to give it to him. “I’m not talking about it.”

“What did Erwin say to you?” Bertholdt asked.

“Nothing.” He stabbed a roasted potato that dashed across his plate to sit under his fork. A few splatters of gravy slid onto his shirt as a result. “He just wanted to review some things. I haven’t been doing my best in class.”

“Your grades are almost better than Reiner’s and Mikasa’s,” Annie pointed out. The hand around Mikasa’s waist gently rubbed her back, despite the effect it had. “What is a genius like you doing wrong?”

Another potato slid over to his fork, this time knocking some off of the plate. “Failing math.”

“You’re making a mess,” Jean teased. The smirk he wore during his spats with Eren appeared. Marco wondered, with a pang in his chest, if he was just as desperate for Eren’s presence as Mikasa was.

Marco flicked his gaze up to him. Beneath him, his plate cracked into tiny shards, dropping his food onto the table. His glass of juice cracked and spilled out its contents in rivulets. Reiner and Bertholdt hurried to clean up the mess as Wagner appeared with a new plate and a friendly tease about the last incident like that. Making a second plate for any of the subjects, in case their powers were let loose, wasn’t uncommon for the kitchen staff. Through the entire ordeal, Marco and Jean didn’t break eye contact, scowling at one another and trying to intimidate the other.

“ _I don’t want to fight you,_ ” Marco said to him. “ _But I’m not going to let you get to me._ ” Jean’s eyes narrowed, and he blocked the connection, this time with intention to hurt.

“Honestly, I’m more interested in why you two are mad at each other than what Erwin had to say,” Reiner admitted once the mess was cleaned up and apologies, for Marco to Wagner, were made.

Marco laughed, curt and sharp, without moving his gaze. “What are you talking about? We’re perfectly fine. There are no problems between us.”

“You broke a plate and a glass because of him.”

“I always do that.”

“He can’t control himself, _dos_ ,” Jean snarled. “He’s such a klutz.”

“Are you jealous of me?” Marco leaned forward on the table. Bertholdt moved his dinner and drink out of the way to avoid another accident. “Is that it? The execs want me to do something cool, and I’m the only one capable of it?”

The shifter scoffed at him, smiling despite the disappointed glint in his eyes. The others might not have seen it, but Marco knew that hurt anywhere. He had hit a sore spot. “I’d have to be a sad person to be jealous of you.” And yet he was. “You’re full of it, did you know that?”

“You’re fighting with Marco like he’s Eren,” Mikasa said quietly, without looking up at them. She must have stayed quiet for most of the day, because the three subjects who had spent the day with her stared at her in surprise. Her statement even stunned Jean and Marco.

Reiner glanced between the two of them and frowned. “Alright, I’m calling it. If you can affect Uno, then whatever happened is serious.”

Jean looked at Marco for one brief moment, unblocking the connection to say, “ _f you won’t tell them, than I will_ ,” and then turned to Reiner before Marco could realize what was happening. “Hanji and Erwin want _him_ to use his psycho powers so that he can alter Eren’s DNA. And _he_ said yes.”

No one responded. Mikasa had raised her head to gaze at him in astonishment and wonder. The fire in her scarf was filled with a bit of life, but it stayed away from the side pressed against Annie. Reiner looked between them, a mixture of emotions crossing his face that were too quick to note. Marco tried not to make eye contact with anyone, especially with the way Annie was glowering at him, and stared at his dinner plate.

“ _And you thought I was being cold,_ ” he said. Jean simply shrugged and took a bite of food.

“ _Whoops._ ”

“How are you going to do that?” Annie asked.

“Why do you need to?” Mikasa added. “What’s wrong with Eren?”

“They said his test results from his quarterlies and first detoxing show signs of kinetic energy,” Marco sighed. Even if he wanted to give the others information on his own time, he couldn’t keep it a secret for longer. “Further tests and comparison to our results show that he has some type of kinetic ability that’s staying dormant in his body. They tried to activate it a week ago, but it backfired on them.” He chose his wording carefully so as not to unease the table any more than he had. “They’re saying that with enough power, I can travel through the psychic network to reach him and activate it.”

Mikasa gulped at his words. Annie, probably sensing her distress, wrapped both arms around her, mumbling something about selective hugging into her shoulder. “You can help him?”

“I think so. There are a lot of risks to it, but Hanji and Erwin say it’s possible—”

“Don’t do it,” Reiner cut him off. His expression had finally set into stone, gravely serious and ready for a conflict. “It’s not worth it.”

Mikasa whipped towards him, flames licking into her long hair and gathering above her head. “For Eren, it is.”

“For a four-month-old subject, it’s not.”

“ _Looks like that’s one for me_ ,” Jean singsonged. Marco, without even looking at him, waved a hand to knock his drink over and onto his pants.

“The bad outweighs the good.” Reiner counted off on his fingers. “He doesn’t have full control of his ability. If he uses too much of his power, he could end up like Eren or flicker completely and destroy the entire facility. And because he’s so inexperienced, I bet he’d have to save up energy before it happens.” He stole a quick glance over at Marco. “No offense to you, _siete_ , but I agree with Jean.”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks,” Marco pointed out. “I’m doing it. I want to help Eren, and I can’t disobey direct orders.”

Annie snorted and sat up from her slouched position against Mikasa. “You had me, because I’ll take any chance to fight with Reiner, and out of all of you, Eren annoys me the least,” she admitted. “But you’re fucking naive, Marco.”

“The execs aren’t that great to us,” Bertholdt said with a frown. “They give us a place to exercise our ability and a roof over our heads, but they don’t always treat us like humans. Just because we have these powers doesn’t mean we’ve lost touch with our humanity.”

“And,” Annie added, “they’re telling you to do something that you don’t know how to do. But I bet they made it sound really nice, right?”

Marco huffed at that. “I don’t want to do this for them, though. I want to do it for Eren.”

Reiner scoffed and looked at Jean, still wiping his pants off. “Is that why you got so mad at him? Because he’s doing it for Eren?”

“Shut up,” Jean grumbled. He tossed the crumpled napkins on the table. “I don’t care about that.”

“ _I’m sure you don’t_ ,” Marco said, without a teasing lilt to his voice despite how much he wanted to. He should be on some level of the high road, even if Jean’s eye twitched at his comment.

“Even if it didn’t help Eren, I think it’s worth it,” Mikasa said. At least he had her on his side. He had heard the rumors about her from everyone at WOF—her ability alone was an entire army’s worth of soldiers.

“You want to help the execs?” Annie wondered. The question by itself made Mikasa shift in her lap. “If you were feeling okay, I would ice your ass right now.”

Mikasa looked at her with a searing stare. “Once Eren comes back, I’ll be better.”

“Even if what they’re saying is true, it’s still an ‘if,’ you know,” Reiner remarked. “Did they say, at any point, that this method would surely work?”

“Nope,” Jean answered before Marco could even open his mouth.

“ _Are_ **_you_ ** _the one they asked to do this?_ ” Marco frowned, but he knew it wasn’t the right thing as he “said” it. They both heard how the execs felt about Jean and his work with the psychic network. His comment was just nailing that insecurity home.

It’s why he didn’t take offense when Jean snarled at him. “ _Fuck you._ ”

“So it might not even help Eren,” Annie said. Reiner nodded solemnly, equally upset at the words but not like Mikasa was. Her fire dropped and returned to its still state, and she bowed her head to hide her face from view. “So if Marco goes through with it and it fails, hypothetically speaking, we could have two subjects out?”

“It’s possible,” Reiner sighed. A small smile flicked up on his lips. “At this point, Marco, I’d wonder if you have enough power to activate Eren’s supposedly dormant power like they think, you could even try and revert the changes to our DNA.”

Marco wasn’t sure if he could even do that, whether Reiner was being serious or not. His power was still new to him, and everyone else had at least a year of professional experience, save for Jean. And regardless of how much power is sent to him, how was he to know what he could and couldn’t do with it? He had little confidence in his abilities, if there was even any to have.

It wasn’t until after dinner that he realized those points were exactly what Reiner and Jean had argued.

He had two days to think about it. Two days where Jean barely looked at him, barely acknowledged him, avoided him as much as he could. When the subjects were asked to do their paired sessions in the arena, he refused. When they attended their seminar on the workings of the psychic network, he sat on the other side of the room, even though they were the only two in the class. When he was ahead in the cafeteria line, or pushed his way there, he served himself on his own time, making his decisions gradually as if there was no hurry. Marco was weary of it.

On the third day, Marco saw Erwin standing outside of the history classroom. Annie, Mikasa and Bertholdt were already inside, chatting about the lesson or some menial topic. Reiner’s attempts to find out more about Eren had resulted in added chores, one of which included dishwashing duty with Wagner. Jean had gone ahead of Marco, another attempt to get under his skin, but he straightened up and hurried inside the classroom. Erwin wasn’t looking for him.

“Good morning, 007,” he greeted the subject. “How are you doing?”

Marco offered a sheepish smile in an attempt at friendliness. “I’m doing well, thank you. Do you need me for something?”

Erwin shut the classroom door quietly, unbeknownst to the subjects and instructor inside. “I don’t mean to creep around, but I’m supposed to be down at the infirmary.”

“For 005?”

He nodded. “He’s awake.”

Marco sucked in a sharp breath. Finally, after nearly two weeks of being kept in the hospital wing, out of sight, he was back. “Oh, wow. Is he doing okay?”

“A little shaky with his memory, but fine otherwise. He should be returning with you tonight, once we see if he requires detoxing or further help.”

“That’s really good.” This time, the smile that stretched on his face was genuine. The others would be happy to hear this—especially Mikasa—except Jean. “Wow. Can you tell him we said hi?”

Erwin chuckled quietly but nodded nonetheless. “I’ll make sure he hears it.” The amusement was washed from his features in mere seconds, without another trace. “Do you remember our conversation two days ago?”

Oh. Erwin wasn’t here for pleasantries or good news. He should have seen this coming. “Yeah, I do. I might be able to help 005 with a possible defect.”

“Correct. Hanji mentioned it to him this morning, and he told us he’s willing to try it again, even if he’ll end up unconscious. And he’s excited that you’ll be working with us to help him.”

Marco nodded slowly to show that he was still present, but the words he was about to share were anything but in agreement. They stung like bile in his throat, searing hot and uncomfortably lodged. The execs, their teams, and now Eren were anticipating what he could do to bring a dormant power to existence. Some were bound to end up disappointed, right? Maybe this was one way of doing it. “Actually, I…I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Erwin’s eyebrows raised in shock, and he stared at Marco with wide eyes before he recomposed himself. With a quiet sigh, he returned to his stoic expression. “I should have expected this. I’m guessing you talked to the other subjects.”

“This is my own decision.”

“I also heard Jean wasn’t training when we met. And he’s treated you terribly for the past few days.”

Marco bristled at the criticism. If there was anyone who didn’t deserve the treatment, it was Jean. Not from the subjects. Not from the execs. Not even from Marco himself. The boy beat himself up enough. “He wasn’t with me. He’s unhappy with my decision.”

“Which you’ve changed.”

“Erwin—”

“It’s nothing you have to apologize for. It’s just…” Erwin sighed and looked away, standing up straighter. “I don’t see how we’re going to be able to pull you out of this without damaging your credibility. If we need you in the future for something equally groundbreaking, how are we going to trust you?”

The statement took him back. Marco wondered if anyone ever forgot just how inexperienced he was. He had never been on an exterior mission, he had never had to release his highest amount of energy, and he had never even been strong. Not to mention he was far from rude and usually followed the orders directed at him. One moment of seeming disobedience, and within reason no doubt, and he was automatically in the wrong. “Maybe if I was here for three years instead of three months, I would have a different response.”

“Would you?”

Marco didn’t answer. He was afraid the response he wanted to give would offend the higher-up. His silence ended up answering for him anyway. Erwin nodded and smiled, though the gesture was pained.

“Well then. I guess we’ll just have wait for you to believe in yourself.”

Marco clenched his fist, thankful that he was holding his notebooks to hide it. He understood, a little bit more, where the distrust between the subjects and WOF’s execs came from. “When you need me next time, I’ll be stronger.”

“Good. If I were you, I would want to be.” Erwin smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes, and then he was gone, brushing past him and disappearing down the hall. For a brief second, Marco was tempted to run after him, to take back what he had said, to follow through with the original plan. But he stayed in place and let him leave as Jean appeared beside him, shoulders touching and eyes fixed downward.

Neither of them said anything at first. Marco was too embarrassed, because he knew that Jean had snuck out of the classroom as something small enough to crawl under the door and eavesdropped on their conversation. And if that was true, then so was the fact that he heard enough of the conversation to know what was going on. Eren would not be experimented on with help from Marco. Jean had won the dispute—maybe not fairly, but that wasn’t important in this situation. He had probably showed up to gloat.

“How much did you hear?” Marco asked.

Jean scuffed his feet, hands fidgeting in his pockets. “Enough,” he mumbled.

“Are you happy?”

No response. The boy just stared at his shoes, probably embarrassed, definitely unsure of what to say. He never could find words in serious situations like this. Or for any situation, for that matter.

“Why did you come out here?”

Jean shrugged, sheepish and nervous. “I don’t know. Is it important?”

“You tell me. For the past two days, you’ve done nothing but try to push me back. You cut the lunch line, you walk slow when you’re in front of me, you’ve tried to mess me up during training—”

The guilt was obvious on his features, from the furrow of his brow to the rise of his shoulders. With each action Marco listed off, Jean grew more uncomfortable, more upset; only this time, a first in two days, it was directed at himself. “I know what I did. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Then please, tell me _why_ you did everything you absolutely could to hold me back. You heard me get ripped apart by Smith. The least you can do is tell me why you were eavesdropping— _again_ —on our conversation.”

“I don’t know! You were so quick to agree with the execs, and you always have, and it makes me so angry, I…” Jean trailed off, his face flushing red. “I’m not used to anyone treating the execs with anything but disdain.”

Marco could recall the cold, distant ways the subjects acted towards the higher-ups, always in the form of resistance and reluctance. If there was a chance to criticize the work they did, someone took the chance. Levi was an exception, due to how often he advocated for their safety and privacy when the others wanted to continue an exercise or push the subjects, but he was still an exec and had a job to perform.

“I know,” Jean continued, “that treating you like shit was wrong. I knew it from the start, but…I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You could have just said something,” Marco pointed out.

“I did! When I snuck in your pocket, I told you not to go along with whatever they said.”

“That didn’t really help me.”

“How was I supposed to elaborate?! They started talking right away!”

Marco sighed, bowing his head to break eye contact briefly. After all they had been through that week, he knew better than to make it more difficult for his friend. They could easily apologize and move on, without any conflicts. It wasn’t like he could travel back to that moment and change things. So why was he making a big deal out of it?

“Look,” he said, his voice small and soft, “I’m sorry for not listening to you when I should have. If I had known more about the execs, maybe I would have said no. But I just—” He fiddled with his hands, as if that would help him get the right words out. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought I did, but…”

There was a beat of silence, and then a hand came into his sight and entwined with his. The paler, much bonier grip surprised him enough to get him to look up. Jean was staring off to the side, biting his lip and pouting. It was almost endearing—the little shuffle in his feet, the scrunch of his shoulders, the blush that suddenly sprouted on his face—friends did this regularly, surely, of course.

“Jean.”

“Hmm.” A disinterested grunt, though Marco knew better. It was nothing but a ruse.

“You’re holding my hand.”

“I know. Your palm is sweaty.”

Marco snorted and swung their hands back and forth lightly. He laughed when he saw the scowl on Jean’s face. “Sorry. Now we both have sweaty hands.”

Jean relaxed, his brows easing down and his eyes blinking out of a daze, and then he smiled, faint as it was. Marco’s stomach fluttered with butterflies. “You’re supposed to be the nice one.”

“Being nice is hard.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

He giggled at the blond, wondering how easy it was for them to return to such simple and easy conversations. He thought that the hostility would have plagued them and prevent such things—or, at least, were undeserving of it.

Jean fiddled with his free hand before he reached for the other and squeezed. “I, um…” He took a breath and shut his eyes. “I’m sorry…for treating you like you never mattered. That was really,  _really_ wrong of me. I don’t know how I even managed to do it, because I felt so guilty—” He took a gulp, a moment to catch his breath, and swung their hands for good measure. “But it’s not about me. It’s about how I treated you, and it was horrible and ugly, and I’m sorry.”

Marco smiled at him, unable to keep a large grin off his face. “I’ll accept your apology if you accept mine.”

Jean was nodding before he even finished speaking. “Yeah, totally, already done.”

“Well good. Then I accept yours.”

Their hands hadn’t moved away, and their gazes remained locked on one another. Jean’s eyes—two burning coals of ember, flickering with emotion and shining with whirling thoughts—were unwavering and firm, steady in their position and confident that the path he was trodding down was the right one. Those eyes were amazing, able to bend to any emotion brewing in its owner when his words failed him. They could reveal wonders and worlds if the right person was nearby.

“And thanks, by the way,” Jean added, much shyer than before. One of his hands returned to comb through his hair and rub his neck. “For doing this…this thing with me. Y’know, the whole…buddy thing, what with the kindness with no explanation and such.”

“You mean being your friend?”

“Yeah, that.”

Wow. What a dork.

Marco shook his head of the thought, which had almost been layered with a lovestruck sigh if he hadn’t stopped himself in time. He covered up his clouded mind with a laugh. “Well, I thank you for being my buddy thing, what with the kindness with no explanation and such.”

Jean huffed and poked his shoulder. “Don’t mock me. I just forgave you. Now I have to do it all over again.”

“Oh, you poor thing. Showing how nice you are is really tough, huh?”

“If I do one more nice thing, my soul might melt.”

Marco giggled. “ _Hope you have that covered._ ”

“ _Sorry, I don’t share my secret plans._ ” As soon as the psychic message was sent, Jean let out a gasp; one hand clamped down on his head and pulled while the other covered his mouth. “ _Holy shit—_ ” Both hands gripped his head. “Holy _shit_ , Marco.”

“You used the psychic link.” Marco stared at him in amazement. “I can’t believe you… Jean, you used it! As a _human_!”

“I didn’t know I could do this.” He looked up at Marco with bewilderment. “I did it without even thinking!”

“Didn’t you use it the other night at dinner?”

“Yeah—maybe—I don’t know, I—”

“This is incredible.”

“I know, right?!”

“I’m so proud of you.”

Jean blinked, his hands dropping to his sides as he gawked at Marco. The amber eyes were burning with disbelief, but also an overwhelming amount of thanks that couldn’t be formed into simple words. Marco knew how hard it had been for Jean to find some type of change within himself, especially one he was working on. He only hoped that his friend heard and accepted the pride in his voice as genuine.

“We should, um,” Jean shook his head and pointed to the classroom. Marco nodded, not protesting only because he knew what Jean was thinking of. He wouldn’t ask for thanks or bring it up unless Jean wanted to talk about it.

And he did, eventually: in the dinner line that evening, he requested a special dessert just for him and Marco. Though whether it was in thanks or an apology for sending him jokes along their private communications line and disrupting class, Marco didn’t know. Wagner tried to ask more about it, smiling and teasingly asking if they were planning on flowers or where “the ceremony” would be held, but Marco broke a plate in surprise and embarrassment, so the conversation dropped.

The rest of the subjects were thankful for the return to normalcy. Reiner, speaking on everyone’s behalf, commented on how tense their time together had been. Marco sheepishly apologized, though Jean, over the psychic network, taunted Reiner for his concern and cracked a joke that had both himself and Marco giggling like kids. He probably wouldn’t stop using that path for a few days, now that he could use it at will.

Later that night, as celebration for the resolution, the group gathered at the coffee table and played a game of UNO. It was part of Reiner’s initiative to distract everyone from the fact that Eren was still gone. Annie, through an overheard whisper to Bertholdt, assumed it was more for Mikasa’s sake than anything, since she had withdrawn more into herself and refused to come out of the funk. Marco even tried doing the tricks he had done to make Jean laugh during paired training, but nothing seemed to work. It seemed that all was lost on her mood changing until the door opened—impossible for anyone who didn’t live on the fourth floor permanently—and Eren waltzed through.

“Thanks for visiting me, assholes,” he called out through the room. The six sitting on the floor, surrounding the coffee table and holding their cards cards, looked up at him in shock and silence. Marco suddenly remembered what Erwin had said to him that afternoon and had little time to hope it would be ignored before Eren was pointing an accusing finger at him. “And thanks to you too, bud, for not helping me out.”

Mikasa was the first to break out of the daze and scramble to her feet. Her arms wrapped around Eren’s neck despite his grunt of discomfort and the begrudging pats to her back. The flames that kept so close to her wavered above their heads, frantic and excited.

“Finally,” Annie sighed, turning away from the scene. “I was tired of her mopey ass.” A tiny spear of fire shot out past her, just missing her, but the blonde was more annoyed than scared by the action. “You’re welcome.”

Marco noticed Reiner and Bertholdt staring at him suspiciously, probably in response to Eren’s jeer towards him. Instead of addressing it, he sent Jean a private message; “ _Please say something. Mom and Dad are staring at me._ ”

Jean barely reacted to the message; maybe he heard Erwin mentioning Eren’s return earlier or noticed how uneasy Marco was. Either way, he followed through with the request. “Welcome back, scrub,” he smirked at Eren. “It’s so _great_ to see you.”

Eren’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped back from Mikasa to glare at him properly. “The greatest thing about being sick is that I didn’t have to see you.” Jean didn’t respond verbally, but the look of horror on Eren’s face was answer enough. “Since when did you learn how to _do_ that?!” Another glower, accompanied by Jean’s taunting laughter. “Cut it out!”

“It happened earlier today, when you were off snoozing in safety.”

“Hey, I was seriously sick.”

“What happened?” Mikasa wondered. “No one told us anything. We had to sneak down to the infirmary just to find you.”

“Thanks for giving us away,” Reiner snorted.

Eren looked quizzically between the subjects at the table. “Marco didn’t tell you?”

“Hey, let’s just finish this round of UNO, okay?” Marco stated, hurriedly flicking his wrist to toss one of his cards on the center deck without touching it.

“He mentioned that the execs wanted to help your DNA change, but that’s about it,” Reiner mused. “But that was two days ago.”

“I love this game,” Jean said, placing his own card in the pile. Within a second, Eren was standing in front of him and grabbing his cards out of his hands. “Hey!”

“You have sucky cards,” Eren said and tossed them face-up on the table. “What do you know?”

“I know just as much as anyone else, jackass.”

“Fucking liar.” Teal eyes flicked back to Marco. “Why didn’t you help me?”

“You didn’t go through with it?” Mikasa asked. Both she and Annie were the stoic ones of their group, but their reputations were broken to reveal the surprise and confusion on both of their faces.

Marco whined and banged his head on the table. Everyone knew about Hanji’s plan to help activate Eren’s dormant power, but the only one updated on Marco’s involvement was Jean. He was too embarrassed, as silly as it was, to admit how wrong he had been to side with the execs.

“He was supposed to do it when I woke up, which was this morning, but Erwin said he bailed because he didn’t feel strong enough,” Eren clarified for them. “I’m not supposed to be this fast or strong. Why should I stop myself from being the best that I can be?”

“They got to you, Eren,” Reiner sighed in disappointment. “Do you seriously believe that what you have already isn’t good enough and needs to be replaced?”

Eren plopped down on the couch and stared at him. “They didn’t influence me. I wanted this.” His gaze returned to Marco, who was sitting up again. “But somebody didn’t want to.”

“I’m sorry, Eren, but I don’t have that much power,” Marco admitted with a muffled groan. “I’ve only been here for a few months. I can’t  create that much energy on my own; they were going to hook me to a machine just to do it!”

“But it was my choice! I didn’t mind!”

“It’s his choice too,” Jean argued. “He didn’t feel comfortable, so he didn’t do it.”

Eren rolled his eyes and crossed his arms with a pout. “You guys told him about the Titans, didn’t you?”

“No, but now that you mentioned it, we’ll have to,” Annie said, sighing and shutting her eyes.

The sudden interest in Titans piqued Marco’s interest; “What about them?”

No one made eye contact; Bertholdt and Reiner suddenly looked at their UNO decks. Mikasa sat beside Eren, fire twirling in her hair; even Jean looked uneasy, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. If no one was eager to start talking, he would have to make it happen. He raised a hand, cyan blue enveloping his hand as the bracelets spun, and gathered all of the UNO cards together so that he couldn’t be avoided. “I almost got eaten by a Titan during my first encounter, and I still have nightmares about it. I deserve to know what they are.”

For a moment, no one moved, despite the lack of distractions in their way. Whatever they were keeping from him was important and, most likely, the underlying secrets of every reference in conversations he never understood. It was part of the dance they had performed for the past few months, ever since he had arrived. The act was going to end.

Eren looked around the room and, seeing the obvious reluctance in everyone present, spoke up; “If no one’s going to tell you, I will.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Mikasa pointed out. “He’ll find out on its own.”

“Well, you guys didn’t think to tell him, so I’ll do it.” He scooted over to the edge of the couch, but he stopped when Marco rested his hands on the table and leaned forward, eager and ready to listen. Eren blinked at him, regaining his bearings, and began. “So the Titans—the giant skin monsters that appeared on your birthday—we think they’re government-made. Specifically, failed experiments that tried to replicate what we are.”

“Why would someone want to replicate us?” Marco wondered.

“Hey, we don’t know, it’s just a theory. All we know is that they’re human-like, but…not, at the same time. Hanji got us to capture a few while we were trying to find Jean, so they can conduct experiments or some weird shit.”

“It was an attempt to find out where they were coming from,” Reiner corrected. “Most of the time, when we’re not finding more subjects, we’re battling those things. They pop up out of nowhere, and we’re called on to deal with it.”

“Why?” Marco looked between Eren and Reiner. “We’re just a couple of kids with freak DNA.”

“Stop hanging around Jean,” Annie scolded. “You’re starting to talk like him.”

“I’m not wrong, though.”

“According to Levi, we’re the only ones who can defeat them,” Eren clarified. “Nothing else is fast enough to get close to them and kill them.”

“‘Kill’ is generous,” Mikasa stated. The glower from the green-eyed boy barely affected her. “Just because they look human doesn’t mean they have humanity.”

“What makes them so…” Marco trailed off, unsure of where to go with his question. If they weren’t human, but they weren’t full monster, what was their classification?

Luckily, Reiner caught the implication and answered. “Well, their weak point is the neck, because of a connection from the brain to the spinal cord. It’s the only way we can defeat them. Their skeletal structure is like ours, even though their bodies are practically weightless. And they have similar respiratory and digestive tracts—minus, um, an anus.”

“They don’t shit,” Jean simplified.

“So these monsters just…appear, out of nowhere, and attack people? And we’re called in to fix it?” Marco concluded.

“See, that’s the thing,” Eren said. His voice rushed with each word, excitement jumping in his eyes. He was getting heated over this. “Most of the time, they’re in the area of the facility, but we’re already in the wilderness and far from any other population. We have never seen one in any city, town, village, district—nowhere with people. Only in secret, and only ever in a forest. They appear out of nowhere, the government asks us to fix it, and we take care of their mess.”

“We’ve tried to ask the execs,” Reiner added, “but this is so tight-lipped that their teams can’t even answer us. Nothing’s worked. We’re in the dark, and _we’re_ the ones risking it on a bunch of monsters.”

“Wow,” Marco breathed. It was the only word he was able to get out. To think that there was so much mystery kept around these things when the subjects were forced to deal with them was hard to defend. It at least clarified the relationship with the employees of the Wings of Freedom and the subjects. From the looks of it, there was little freedom to be had and little positive reason for a friendly relationship.

“But you don’t have to worry so much about it,” Jean said. His hand reached out, but it just patted his shoulder awkwardly. “You have us. And we’re going through the exact same thing, so…”

That was reassuring, at least. With no more secrets, no more mystery, Marco was one of them. Goodbye to the outside, hello to inclusion, for better or worse.

“Welcome aboard,” Eren announced, patting Marco’s shoulder with a grin. “Now, scoot over so you can learn how to _really_ play UNO.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't explain something, and all else fails, it's all a ~government conspiracy~


	9. Retrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fast-forward to two years. Powers are stronger, relationships are firm, and everything (almost) looks perfect.

Two years as the seventh subject of the Wings of Freedom. Marco, now eighteen, has grown experience beyond his expectations. He has battled Titans, trekked through various terrains, bonded with his teammates, and grown cautious of the execs that tutor and monitor him. He stands in the place that the other subjects were in when he first arrived. The only difference is that, for two years, no other human with evolved DNA has been found.

There were instances where Marco became painfully aware of the change he had endured, whether it was through a physical outbreak that creeped along slowly or a mental one that sneaked around and took him by surprise—like, for instance, his affection towards Jean.

The romance factor was only somewhat familiar to him, even if he didn’t participate in it. At his one-year anniversary of being a subject, Reiner and Bertholdt disappeared for almost three hours and returned after dessert with no explanation. Bertholdt flushed at their questions, and Reiner stuffed his face to avoid answering them. The two of them had always been close, but as time passed, it contained suspiciously intimate implications. Annie teased them for it, though she had no room to talk: her spats with Mikasa had some not-so-secret smiles underneath them that were equally returned. And Eren pointed out how much less time Mikasa spent beside him and how much more time she directed her attention towards Annie. He was met with a ball of ice to the back of the head, but it didn’t change his opinion.

Eren, as it turned out, had a knack for pointing out such things. Maybe it was because he wasn’t involved with someone else, but he was especially observant towards the obvious love circles going around. And when Marco fell into one, he was hit hard.

“You know, you’re super obvious about Jean,” he teased one late morning during training. The subjects were working on entrapment, with Eren and Jean taking turns running around the arena while the kinetic-based subjects tried to trap them. Marco had barely started working with Eren’s fast feet when he made the comment.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, willing to listen to his explanation but fully aware that it could be a trap to make him lose focus.

Eren shrugged and hopped from one foot to the other. “You tell me. I’m just the cheerleader on the sidelines.” He disappeared in a blur and ran around him in circles. Marco waited until the sound of his feet faltered just slightly before he raised a hand and—missed him, by a few feet.

“Dammit.” He let his bracelets spin around his wrists to wake up a little more and concentrate. It was easier for him to freeze someone whether they were moving or not, making the training pointless under those conditions, so the session was shaped to define trapping for, at the very least, his training. In order to trap Eren and Jean, they had to be completely surrounded, unable to force or jump their way out. It was much harder to do than initially believed. “What are you cheering for, then?”

Smirking, Eren zipped closer to him. Marco had hit a “tiny” growth spurt, leaving a height difference between them. “For you two to stop beating around the bush and just _kiss_ already.”

“Wha—” The teal-eyed boy sped past him and nearly knocked him down in the process, if he hadn’t caught himself and levitated above the ground. “What do you mean ‘kiss’?!”

“You know what I mean, don’t play dumb!” Eren waited for him to return to his feet before he moved again, this time to the left but within sight. “You two are more obvious about liking each other than Reiner and Bert are—and that’s saying something!”

Marco frowned, more to hide his blush than anything else, and let a few tiny bursts of energy fly out of his hands, in no specific direction but to give him _something_ to do. Maybe if he could distract Eren, he could eventually lock him down.

“You would think that someone as smart as you would pick up on it, but I don’t know.”

_He’s just trying to get a reaction from you. Don’t fall into it._

“Everyone knows romance is for the elite—and fuck, I’m not even in love with anyone!”

_Steady, Marco. Keep your head straight._

“Hey, I wonder what Jean thinks about this. Maybe I should ask him, see if he’s just as clueless as you are.”

Marco shot out a larger swirl of blue energy that narrowly missed Eren and only left him cackling. Despite his attempts, he had gotten to his head. And eventually, Marco was able to trip him up over blue-tinted energy and simultaneously layer two shields over him—after five tries of failing to do so. Eren was good.

Jean came out after Eren, who winked at Marco and twirled his fingers at Jean as he passed. Their feud had tamed down a bit as they grew older, but they were still prone to occasional outbreaks. What would have sent Jean down a spiral of angry fists and loud fighting only caused a raised eyebrow and cocked head.

“You okay?” Jean asked once it was just the two of them. “You look tense.”

“I’m fine,” Marco sighed, shutting his eyes more to avoid revealing the embarrassment brewing inside him—both from his and Eren’s behavior. “Eren just got in my head.”

“Heh, it looked like it. What’d he say this time, something about your freckles?”

Marco scoffed lightly as Jean pulled out his morpher and scrolled through his options. “No, I wish. That would have been a lot better.”

“Well, I doubt it was important. Eren’s a total blockhead.” He chose his animal and morphed into a golden retriever. “ _I’ll start you off easy, to make up for it._ ”

“ _If you want to make this easy, you can just stand still._ ” Marco’s hand was glowing just as Jean zoomed away from him. “You cheater!”

“ _Cheating for doing my job? Oh, that’s rich, Coco._ ”

“That’s an even cheaper move!”

They were friends. They liked to spend time together. Marco didn’t see what was wrong with that. Everyone else acted the same way. Reiner and Bertholdt were just as close—but there was a romantic undertone to everything they did. And even if they were rivals, Annie and Mikasa were still friendly with each other—and just as hormonal in terms of sexual desire as the other. He was limited to his examples, sure, but the point still stood: there was nothing going on between him and Jean.

Marco stayed in denial until it hit him, quite literally, in the chest.

He was practicing with Reiner on how to combine their powers, just as he had with Bertholdt all those months ago. Only this time, 003 stayed to provide pointers and help them focus on their abilities. Mikasa had already had her turn, but she declined an offer to help, using her studies as an excuse despite Annie’s lingering presence beside her. It wasn’t brought up until dinner, in a snide remark, but at that point, there were more significant events to focus on.

“You’re really rushing it, Reiner,” Bertholdt pointed out. There was a patch of leveled ground in the bundle of trees beside the lake, far enough for privacy but close enough to get back to the facility in case of an emergency. It was the perfect playing field for them.

Reiner huffed and kicked a stray piece of ground with his foot. His body had filled out more, the dirt and clumps of earth that followed or clung to him only adding to his rugged nature. “I’m not doing anything wrong. This is what I usually do.”

“Well, that’s kinda the point for doing these exercises,” Marco said. “You haven’t worked with pure energy before, so it’s really important that you watch how it acts and follow it.”

“I know how it works!” They had been going at it for two hours now with little success. It wasn’t surprising that one of them would be brought to the edge.

Bertholdt squeezed his shoulder and stepped closer to him, offering a small smile. “It’s okay to not get it right on the first try. It took me and Mikasa a while to figure it out.”

Reiner visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping at the touch. A small smile appeared on his lips. “You’re a super genius, though.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I have my moments.” Reiner laughed quietly and _winked_ at him.

Marco looked between them, wondering when their hands would stop ghosting over each other and just intertwine already, and cleared his throat. The duo separated immediately. “How about we try again, Reiner? You can throw some rocks at me, and I’ll catch them and throw them back.”

“I can work with that,” he nodded. Marco pretended not to notice the redness of his ears. “I can do that, no problem.”

“Alright!”

Thankfully, the routine was an easy start, and they went back and forth with a light game of catch. When they gained more confidence, Reiner combined the pieces, cutting their numbers in half but doubling their size. A few times, Marco would hold one back and wait until Reiner passed them before he returned it. It kept them on their toes, focused on their goal, and active. Eventually, they were in sync with each other’s movements and moving more fluidly.

“The idea is to start small and get bigger,” Bert explained. “Rene said that it’s our best option when learning how to combine our powers with telekinesis. Because of the energy it takes for Marco to work with his powers, it helps to gradually build into a larger counterattack.”

“Larger counterattack, huh?” Reiner smirked. He had combined more of the rocks, but Marco wasn’t fazed by it. “So if this were to, I don’t know, become one big mass, he could break it apart?”

“Ideally, yes, but I wouldn’t try it right awa— _Reiner!_ ”

As soon as he brought up the question, Marco was ready for Reiner’s stunt. The rocks piled into one mass and, with a warning grunt, were shot towards him. Marco stuck out a hand to freeze it in the air, and he sent his own smirk to the duo before he closed his fist and the rock shattered into pieces. Tiny fragments spread everywhere: at him and his teammates, into the ground below or the bordering trees. The most notable direction, however, came from above, where a pair of flapping wings and a cry on the psychic network broke out.

“ _Hey, you idiots, watch where you’re—ow!_ ”

Jean’s retort—which didn’t explain why he was out there in the first place—was cut off as a hawk spiraled down with a squawk. Unable to straighten himself up, he crashed into Marco and sent them both tumbling to the ground. Jean was forced back to human form as soon as they made contact, their noses just breaths apart and their eyes unable to look anywhere else but at each other.

Marco was frozen, unable to move in fright and disbelief and why were their legs so perfectly aligned? Why did he feel every breath that Jean let out, watch amber eyes widen in alarm and realization, do nothing but lay on his back and stare back? Every part of his body that was pressed against Jean felt like it was on fire. Could Jean hear his heartbeat? Or feel it? Or see the searing flare of his cheeks?

One of Jean’s hands raised to push against the ground, behind Marco’s shoulder, but he didn’t move any further. Their bodies shifted closer together; could he count the freckles on his cheeks? Marco watched him lick his lips, and he wondered what they tasted like. Jean was cold to the touch—he was always chilly and had used his icy feet to bother Marco countless times before—but maybe mutual affection would warm his touch, spilling out from his hands and his mouth and his laugh—

Normal, regular, typical friends didn’t have thoughts like that.

Jean finally pushed himself off the ground, eyes wide and quickly averted down. He held a hand out, after slight hesitation, for Marco to grab. It took a flash of realization, but he took the offered hand and let himself be pulled up. He uttered a quiet “thanks” as he dusted his clothes off of any stray pieces of dirt.

“Are you okay?” Marco asked. His voice sounded so loud to his ears, after the intrusive thoughts of where he wanted to put his mouth—

“Fine, just, y’know, head hurts,” he said, and tapped his temple for emphasis.

“Oh, no, I didn’t hit you there, did I?”

“No, no!” Marco thought he saw Jean’s hand reach out to grab his, but the movement was so quick and never happened that it might have been an illusion. “I mean, you hit my wing, but I got forced out of my form, so…b-but only because we collided and I, well, knocked you down, so…oh, right, sorry about that—”

“I should be apologizing. Is your arm okay—or, I mean, your wing, I guess?”

Jean moved his arm up and down in a wave motion. “It feels okay, I think.”

“Oh, good!” Marco smiled, noticing Jean gulp and duck his head. “That’s, ah, really good.”

Reiner cleared his throat and brought the attention back to him and Bertholdt. Jean and Marco jumped as if scalded by fire. “So,” Reiner smirked, his voice taunting even if his words weren’t, “what were you doing, flying over us?”

Jean huffed and started to walk out of the clearing. “I was racing Eren, back off.” He glanced over at Marco, just slightly hesitating in his steps, but he continued on his way and left.

“Wow. Talk about lovesick.”

Marco flipped Reiner on his back with a flick of his finger, even though deep inside he agreed with the teasing remark. Whether it was referring to Jean or himself, there was no lie that there was some feeling there. He wasn’t sure what to call it, because he had never encountered something like it before, but he wondered if it was related to love. Not that he _loved_ Jean, no, not at all, but there had to be some type of relation. His heart clenched when their shoulders brushed together, his gaze had a habit of staring for too long and nearly getting caught, and his face bloomed as strong as the red carnations growing in their young garden.

He would have squashed those feelings down and locked them somewhere deep inside himself where he could never reach, but he was always stopped. And every time, it was because of Jean.

If Marco was guilty for suggestive looks and movements, then Jean was just as bad, to the point where he was either unable or unwilling to hide brushed. He nervously chuckled if their shoulders touched or their fingers scooted too close, and he looked away with wide eyes if he was caught staring, but he always chanced a glance back anyway. At least then, Marco tried to tell himself, he was not alone in such mutual feelings. It supported his reactions, for better or worse, and he could continue the so-called dance around Jean.

About a year and a half after staying with the subjects, Jean had what Hanji dubbed a bad reaction to his morpher. In an attempt to transform into a frog and swim through the waves Bertholdt carried in the air, the morpher turned him into a lion instead: entirely unrelated to the water trick he was trying to perform and disruptive to the lesson. Levi called him out on it, but his tone grew more worried than critical when Jean was unable to return to his human form. They were lucky that Hanji was on site and already heading out to bring him to the infirmary.

An update with the two execs told the subjects that the morpher, due to time, had worn down and was unable to monitor Jean. With nothing keeping his form in check, the morpher rejected his body and the instincts of his DNA momentarily locked him out of his human, or natural, form. Hanji was able to revert the change—much to their pride and Levi’s chagrin—but Jean would be held in the infirmary until the problem with his morpher was located and it could be removed and fixed. The “end result”—Marco understood it as whether Jean would come out of it alive or not—was unknown, so it was best to get time with Jean before he went under.

Each subject went on their own time. Eren was the first to visit and spent almost two hours down there. When he returned, he was melancholy and kept to himself for the rest of the day. Marco waited until everyone else had their time, and then after dinner on a stress-free day, he went to the infirmary and visited his—dear, closest, best—friend.

Jean was sitting up in bed thanks to pillows propping him up, shirtless and reading a book when Marco tapped on the door to his hospital room. He looked paler than what was healthy, but the lack of his morpher and the surrounding equipment was what concerned him. An IV in each arm, there was a scar in the center of his chest, a diagonal rectangle with a plastic-looking cylindrical tube lodged in the center. A majority of the machines on either side of the bed had wires connected to the tube. Only one didn’t, reading off various statuses on the subject currently bedridden that were sent in from the other machines.

When Marco entered the room, offering a smile as sad as it was, Jean looked up but turned his head just as quickly. One hand reached up to hover over the wires in his chest. “I told Annie to _not_ let you come here.”

“It didn’t work,” Marco said. He pulled up a chair gingerly and sat beside him. “She tried to ice my door this morning and then put blocks on my feet during dinner.”

“You should have taken the hint.”

“You should have gotten someone else to stop me.” Jean’s hands returned to the book—a play, Shakespeare—but his eyes lingered on his legs instead of the pages. Based on their relationship, and because it was _him_ of all people, he didn’t even have to ask the question on his mind. Jean answered for him.

“Everyone else has seen me at this stage before. I wanted to spare you the experience.”

Marco absently toyed with his rings, letting a wayward strand of energy twirl between his fingers. “Oh, did you now.”

Jean scoffed and glowered at him, though the gesture was weak and heavy with fatigue. Everything from his voice to his form was filled with the same feeling. “Come on, don’t get upset about that, please. Not now.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Your chair’s floating and you lost my spot in ‘Twelfth Night’.”

Marco dropped the chair back on the ground and shut the book in the same movement. He looked at Jean expectantly, but the taut feeling in his gut vanished when they made eye contact. Why was he upset with someone going through so much pain? The morpher hadn’t been removed since it was first put in, and this was the only way his body, his DNA, could react to it: a sweaty, clammy, tired shell for Jean to stay in. His chest weakly rose with each breath he brought in. Marco was vaguely reminded of the description he had been given when Jean first opened up to him, the difficulty to breathe and move and the pressure of remaining in his human form. According to his body, he should be an animal, but the machines, and maybe his own willpower, prevented it.

He knew there was no way to help him in that moment. It would be silly to think that there was anything he could do to help. But he pushed that fact aside and held Jean’s hand instead, squeezing gently and running his thumb along the top. His response was a faint smile and a wispy sigh.

“How many books have you read so far?” Marco asked quietly, noting the books on the bedside table. Nine of them were stacked on top of one another, all worn and loved by their owner.

“All of them,” Jean mumbled. He tapped on the one in his lap. “I’m just going through them again.”

“Again?”

“For the third time.”

“Third?! It’s been four days!”

“I had a lot of free time. Bert brought over two from his collection.”

“If I had known you were almost done, I would have brought some myself.”

Jean chuckled and shut his eyes. His smile grew wider, even if his energy depleted a bit more. “Nah. The surgery’s tomorrow. Hanji says they’ll have to put me to sleep for a few days once they put the morpher back inside, to see if I can handle the new program and so they can fix any complications.”

“I’m sure there won’t be any.” Marco resisted the urge to lean over and kiss his sweaty forehead, deeming it inappropriate for the current situation. He let his bracelets run up and down his arm instead. Before they fell back into place, they tapped against Jean’s fingers, pressed against a freckled wrist. “But even if there is, I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, Marco thought Jean had fallen asleep, so still and at peace for once. But his eyes opened, slowly, and a small, familiar smirk twisted on his lips. “Good, because I wasn’t letting you leave either way.”

Marco laughed quietly, bowing his head shyly. One of the subjects might have commented on how obvious it was that they liked each other, but even if it was, this was not the time to worry about it. So he talked quietly with him—about their day, the other subjects, what to do when he got out—until they fell asleep, hands still tangled together.

Before Jean was carted off the next day, at the break of dawn, Marco did what he forbade himself to do last night and kissed his forehead. Thankfully, by the time he went through his classes, and any judgment for staying in the infirmary all night, the surgery was finished. His morpher was put back in, new parts working and guaranteed to stay longer. Hopefully, if there was a next time for a malfunction, there would be a better way to fix it.

Jean slept for two days. The entire time, Marco stayed by his side. Petra and Henning, one of Mike’s scientists, tried to get him out, but he was able to keep them away, even threatening to shove them away with a raise of his hand and a spin of his bracelets. Erwin had to come down and remind him that the advisors to the exec board were not targets, but human beings, and would not react kindly to any special abilities being thrown at them. But with a little convincing, Marco was cleared to stay with Jean. As if he gave them a choice anyway—he refused to talk to Erwin until he addressed why he was in the infirmary in the first place.

When the machines disappeared on the second day, he crawled in bed beside him and read quietly to the sleeping boy, whispering the stories and acting out the various scenarios. When Jean woke up the first time, he blearily looked up at him and returned to sleep, nuzzling into Marco’s shoulder. The second time, he listened to the story and smiled at the different characterizations before he shut his eyes again. By the third time, he was reading alongside him, his energy revived enough to mock his impersonations. His nose crinkled when it was bad, but his eyes lit up with laughter when he did it right. And he never once tried to back away from him, but burrowed himself further against him instead.

Marco believed if he hadn’t fallen for Jean before, he had definitely become smitten.

That was something else, Marco noticed, that had changed considerably over the two years of his staying there. There were some gaps between ages—Eren the youngest at seventeen and Reiner the oldest at nineteen—and in arrival time. The first three subjects had been together for two years before Annie showed up, and then it was only six months before Eren, and six more before Jean (when disregarding the fact that it took a year overall to bring him in). But, according to Bertholdt, once the two-year mark was hit, there wasn’t a lot that could surprise them about their ability.

Annie discovered during one of the quarterly exams that she could freeze an entire body of water and shatter it into droplets. The lake was barred off for weeks because of it, but she claimed it was worth it. Regardless, she took the new information in her stride. When Reiner learned how to control the quakes he caused, he smiled and practiced more to perfect it. Jean’s new morpher heightened his senses, at will, in his human form. He could have the hearing capabilities of a bat or the nighttime vision of a cat without changing into the animal.

That last one required some celebration, moreso on Marco’s part than anyone else’s. He was just happy for his—dear, closest, best—friend.

Nonetheless, Marco found a few new things after living at the Wings of Freedom’s base. For one, by his first-year anniversary, he had become a master of his telekinesis. A stranger wouldn’t suspect he had only been at the facility for that long. He knew what he was doing, he had control, and he loved the feeling. Quarterly exams were a piece of cake. Mental tests and class projects took a few hours to work through, but were not impossible. And timed obstacle courses were nothing for him. (That last one was a slight lie—the only one who had finished it, without cheating, was Mikasa.) Either way, he was confident, he was healthy, and he was content.

The second intrigue involved the Titans. In the two years he had been there, there were fifteen sightings of Titan swarms and fifteen missions to bring them down. Five of them required to leave the scene after it was done and deal with the same problem at a new location. Just as Marco had been told, the Titans never showed up in populated areas, and it took a slice to the neck to take them down. He had nearly been eaten enough times to lose count. And no matter how many they killed, no matter how many times they were thanked, no matter how many praises Hanji sang, they weren’t any closer to discovering the origins of the Titans.

The third and last discovery for Marco was just how limited he could be.

It was a week after their quarterly exams, two years into Marco’s stay, and the first day back from the small break Levi had granted them. They were getting warmed up for the session, stretching and teasing one another, preparing for a new set of lessons, when Eren collapsed.

Mikasa was by his side in an instant, scooping him up so he was in her lap instead of lying on the ground. Levi rushed out instantly, giving an order to one of his squad members behind him as he did. He checked Eren’s pupils and his pulse, but he did it in silence. Whether his calm facade was an act or the real deal was anyone’s guess.

“Steady pulse, no internal harm done,” Levi stated firmly, “but we didn’t catch this on our radar. It’s new.”

“Oh good,” Annie scoffed. “We love when you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“It keeps things interesting,” Bertholdt added, though his tone was sharp. Annie nudged his shoulder with a proud, smug grin. Mikasa looked up at both of them, and their expressions dropped back to neutral.

“Did any of you see what he was doing before he passed out?” Levi asked them.

“He was just stretching,” Reiner offered. “He and Jean were talking, I think.”

Jean, at his name, gulped and raised his hands defensively. “About lunch, I swear. I’m just as shocked that this is happening.”

Hanji ran into the arena, white coat billowing behind them, and dropped to their knees beside Eren. A walkie-talkie was in their hands, most likely to communicate with their team upstairs. “Mike’s reports say it was entirely random,” they panted, “but Nanaba pointed out an irregularity that looked familiar.”

“Meaning you’ve seen it before?” Levi demanded.

“Well, yes, to an extent. It’s not documented, because they believed it wouldn’t come back, but I _knew_ it would. Do you remember when he fell ill almost two years ago?”

Although they were most likely talking to Levi, the subjects knew what they meant. Almost all eyes went to Marco; Mikasa’s gaze was conflicted between anger and disbelief. Hanji was making a point that they should have done something when they had the chance. The only reason why they didn’t was because of Marco. Putting this on his shoulders was just unfair.

Levi glanced at the subjects standing behind him, but he didn’t say anything. He simply nodded that he understood the reference.

“The same strand of DNA that made him sick back then broke down,” Hanji explained. “Only this time, it just stopped working. It didn’t spread a virus.”

“So how do you wake him up?” Mikasa asked. “How does he get better?”

“That’s what Mike’s team is trying to figure out right now. My team is bringing medical supplies down here to stabilize him and transfer him to the infirmary so we can do more tests. But even then, we have no guarantees that anything will work out.” Hanji glanced up at Marco, their eyes cold and disappointed. “All I know is that this could have been avoided.”

“I was inexperienced and had no idea what I was doing,” Marco defended himself. He felt Jean grip his arm and try to tug him back, a warning and reminder of who he was talking to. “I couldn’t handle my telekinesis back then. Don’t make this my fault.”

“No one is blaming you,” Levi stated, though Hanji hummed in disapproval. He whipped towards them with a glare, as if to remind them of their purpose here. “ _No one_ includes you.”

“You don’t have to protect them, Levi. I can handle it—I’ve had two years to learn.”

“And two years is still not enough, so just shut up and let us handle it.”

“That sounds like a great idea, let’s do it,” Jean said and was finally successful in pulling Marco beside him. The growth spurt Marco had suddenly hit one day made Jean tug him down in order to whisper in his ear. “Stop provoking them and let them do their job. Eren can get help a lot faster if they can do that.”

“You heard what they said,” Marco huffed. “Neither of them knows what they’re doing. I’d bet money that Erwin doesn’t even know what to do. And after all this time, I’ve never been mean to anyone, and I was always willing to work with them, but I say _one thing_ because I’m looking out for myself, and I’m suddenly their biggest enemy.”

“What are you gonna do, tell on them?”

“I’ll do them one better.” He looked over at Hanji and Levi, the latter standing over them and trying to get Mikasa to do the same so Hanji could work. “I’ll do what they can’t.”

Jean rolled his eyes. “Marco, how is that supposed to help Eren? That’s who this is about, remember? He’s the one passed out on the floor.”

“Not for long.” He cleared his throat to gather the execs’ attention. Both Levi and Hanji looked up at him with expectant stares, but the latter was more suspicious. “Let me help him. I’m the only one who can.” Jean sighed and rolled his eyes at his declaration.

“I think you’ve done everything in your ability,” Hanji stated coldly. They probably weren’t willing to let him help, unable to trust him or whatever other excuse they could find. And he was sure they had enough power and influence to prevent him from getting anywhere near Eren once he was taken away.

Marco raised his hand and shot a ball of cyan energy into the farthest wall, forming a dent. He turned his wrist once he had everyone’s attention, hand still glowing, and the dent straightened out immediately, the wall repaired. It looked like nothing had happened, and it took little effort on his part. He felt the eyes of everyone on him, even the observers in their respective rooms. Two years ago, he would have cringed at the thought. Now, he pushed past it and embraced it for what it was.

“You know I’m the only one who can do that, and I’m the only one with proper access to the psychic network. If I can get into it, I can see what’s wrong with Eren.”

Hanji stayed silent but kept eye contact, staring at Marco without blinking. After what must have been too long, they brought their walkie-talkie up to their mouth and pressed a button. “Change of plans, kids. Bring the stretcher and my emergency kit.”

In a matter of minutes, Levi cleared the arena to allow Hanji the space to work, despite some (Jean’s) reluctance to leave. Hanji and their assistant Moblit carefully put Eren on a stretcher, strapping him in over his chest for safety measures. One of his arms was turned over, palm up. While Moblit checked on him, Hanji set up the machine, a black box that looked identical to an amp, that would generate enough energy for Marco to work. He was attached to said device through a headband-like device, with wires webbed across one half. Eren had the same one, so he didn’t feel as silly wearing it.

“You can’t back out this time,” Hanji said as they checked over Eren. Moblit did the same for Marco, checking the device on his head and securing it. “Once we leave, and once Levi gives you the all-clear, you’re on your own.”

“I’m aware,” Marco breathed. His heart hammered in his chest, but he assured himself that no wrong could befall him. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

“When we power down, you’ll take over and ‘connect’ with 005, like so.” They grabbed his hand and held it between theirs gingerly. “It’ll maintain physical contact, in case you get lost in the network and need to return to your course. From the network, you should be able to see what’s wrong with him—the malfunction won’t be hard to see either way, so with a little telekinetic touch,” they raised a hand to poke the air with a small smile, “he should be shocked into waking up and, perhaps, have a new ability.”

Marco wasn’t sure how any of this was logical, but Hanji was essentially a genius, so he had little choice but to go along with it. He nodded and took a deeper breath. “Okay. This should be easy. This won’t be long at all.”

“You bet your butt it won’t.” They patted his back and grinned before they were ushered out by Moblit, a goodbye and a “good luck” thrown over their shoulder.

When he was finally alone, Marco looked over at Eren. He noticed his eyebrows were scrunched up, and his lips were perpetually drawn in a frown, an unsettling expression to see on his friend. Eren was supposed to be a jokester, the light at the end of a stressful day, with a beam and a tease and a nudge. He shouldn’t be like this, and he shouldn’t have been snuffed on his chance to become his true self.

“ _We’re turning the power off, 007,_ ” Levi announced on the intercom. If Marco looked hard enough, he could see the outlines of his team and the other subjects watching from the control room. “ _We won’t be able to communicate with you until you finish, but we’re on standby in the event that something goes wrong._ ”

Marco nodded and smiled at them as his thanks before he looked back down at Eren. He waited until the lights went off, the hum of the facility faded into silence, and the air was still with inactivity. Although he didn’t know how much was turned off, he trusted that he had enough to do what was needed. And so he began.

The only light in the arena came from the rings around his wrists that pulsed with energy and waited to be in use. When he clutched Eren’s hand as Hanji had shown him, the machine beside him started to hum. He felt no change in his body until suddenly, like a strike of lightning, immeasurable amounts of energy flowed through him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, filling out over his entire body. The other subjects had told him that a halo appeared over his head as a sign that too much power was being generated inside him. A new glow materialized above his head; he suspected it was said halo.

With Eren’s hand in his and the machine providing energy to use, Marco shut his eyes and accessed the psychic network like he would any other time. This time, it felt like his entire body was being put onto the invisible path, instead of his voice or words. He walked along the line, careful to not step off and lose himself. Hanji mentioned it as a possibility, but how dire it could be was anyone’s guess. Maybe, if he tried, he could reach Eren.

“ _Hey, cinco, can you hear me?_ ”

At first, for a while, silence remained. He was about to give up and continue on his path before his name breathed through the empty space. He followed the sound as best he could until it was close; his physical form stayed where it was. This was in his mind, or somewhere else, or anywhere but in the physical reality. Then, without warning, Eren appeared in front of him, transparent in a periwinkle coating. He looked more like a ghost than anything else.

“ _Can you hear me?_ ” He repeated. Speaking seemed to have no effect on him; was he not heard after all? Was Eren even able to see him?

“ _Air…_ ”

“ _Eren, try and answer me. What do you see?_ ”

“ _Air…!_ ”

Before he could react, the image of Eren was blown away to dust particles, his body dematerialized right in front of him. Marco tried to grab onto him, to hold him in place or stop him or _something_ , but he wasn’t quick enough. Eren went right through his fingers, but a mangled piece of thread, sickly green and yellow, fell in his palm instead. As soon as it made contact with his skin, the energy that had been pouring into his body suddenly erupted. He raised the thread via levitation, examining the intricate weavings and interesting color choices. Did it mean something?

Marco grabbed the thread back in his hand, but as soon as his fingers curled around it, it unraveled and imploded on itself. Pieces flew around him, on him, above him—a loud gasp in front of him alerted him to another presence, but he couldn’t _see_ who was there— “Eren?”

Another push of energy, and he felt his body being thrown back—physically, not on the strange road in the psychic network. He came in contact with the ground and tumbled a few times before he stopped. He hadn’t felt so worn or drawn out since his field test. Every inch of his body thrummed with use to the point of exhaustion.

“—you back off, we can answer your questions!”

“I need to hear it from the horse’s mouth! I need to _see_ his condition for myself—”

Marco opened his eyes to blearily gaze up at the figures standing above him and discover the loud voices. He recognized the faces—Levi and Hanji in the background, and Jean and Annie much closer. When he tried to sit up, the two subjects helped him into a sitting position against the wall.

“Don’t try to move right now,” Annie said. “You just came to. Wait a little while, yeah?”

Marco simply nodded, unable to do much else. Jean opened his mouth to speak, his expression filled with worry and relief, but Hanji beat him to the punch and shoved him out of the way. “How do you feel?” They demanded. “Do you have anything left over? Where do you feel the most pain? What does your _head_ feel li—Levi!”

Levi promptly pulled them up and away by their ponytail, scolding them for not listening in the first place. Beyond them, Mikasa was fretting over an alert Eren, who was rubbing his head and gripping the band. At least he was awake; that was one good thing to come out of the practice.

“Did it work?” Marco mumbled. His throat felt dry and used up. Whatever he had done had worn him down. Both Annie and Jean stayed silent; Jean just held his hand close to him, rubbing the top gingerly and tracing patterns along his freckled skin. Marco recognized it as fidgeting, a habit he had when, among other things, he didn’t want to talk to anyone about what was clearly on his mind. In other words, it hadn’t worked.

Marco had lunch with the other subjects, like any other day. He went to the rest of his lessons and messed with the other subjects. Jean saw through it and stayed close to him, within reach, for the rest of the day. Even when he had the ability to do it in theory, he couldn’t bring it to reality. The thought consumed him when no one else was around to witness how weak he was.


	10. Groundbreaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News hits the subjects on what—and who—is coming up. Marco has a thousand and one thoughts, and they just keep coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhhh
> 
> So school caught up with me, and mental health followed right after, and then work kicked me in the ass, and now here I am. But we're making progress into this being more than a superhero au and more with a romantic twist. No spoilers but I think you'll like it ;)

“Psst. Hey, Marco.” Through the bleary remains of sleep, a hand gently nudged his shoulder and whispered at him. “Marco, wake up.” This hand was persistent, because it went to prodding soon after. He wished for a few more minutes, chasing after the remains of drowsiness. He thought they got the point when the hand moved away—only to be replaced by _two_ hands, shaking him back and forth as if he was a log. “Marco! Would you _wake up_ already?!”

Marco finally turned over to look up at Jean, still in his pajamas but with zero indication that he was equally tired. That boy was cute, but it was too early to be so wide-eyed and excited—which, actually, wasn’t his usual morning state of mind. “Can I help you?” He mumbled, nearly incoherent.

“Eren wants to see you.”

“What time is it?”

“Time for you to see what Eren wants. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

“Not really.” Marco tried to roll back over, but Jean hopped on top of him and pinned him down on his back. “Jean, wha—” He started to protest, but stopped when he realized how close their hips were. If he shifted his legs up even a little bit, he would be thrusting into uncertain (and inappropriate) territory. Jean, however, didn’t look as bothered.

“I’m telling you to do something that _Eren_ told me to do. Eren, the same guy who pushed me into the lake when I made fun of his haircut?” Marco snorted at the reference. Maybe to push his attention away from the fact that their hips were so close. But his snort made Jean smile, so it was at least worth it. “He told me to get you, and I think this thing is worth it enough to get your lazy butt out of bed.”

“You can say please.” Marco stretched his arms above his head. “You gave a rude awakening.”

“Because you sleep like a log.” Jean slid off of him gracefully and pulled on his arm. “For real, though, come see this. You of all people should see it.”

That last part might have done the trick, if only to increase his curiosity on what Eren wanted. Despite every part of him demanding him to stay in bed, Marco pushed himself up and followed Jean out of his room. Eren was leaning against the back of the couch, his arms crossed tautly in front of his chest and his foot tapping furiously. Some stray sheets of paper and a few books were scattered on the floor. When he saw the duo enter, his eyes widened and he stood up straight.

“Marco, you gotta see this,” he begged. “I was coming back from a shower, and Jean said something smart to me that I’m nice enough to ignore for right now, and when I ran to him, he fell over.”

Marco giggled quietly at the image, but Jean’s betrayed look stopped him quickly. He cleared his throat to hide his amusement. “So, uh, you woke me up for…?” Because of Eren’s superhuman speed, he often had an accidental ability to knock down anyone in his path. It was a common occurrence.

“Well, I didn’t touch him—at least physically.”

“Uh-huh. He had a spiritual experience so strong that he toppled over.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Just show him,” Jean sighed with a groan. “It’ll save us time.”

Eren scowled at being told what to do, but he took his advice anyway. He walked quickly over to the front door, positioned himself accordingly, and ran past them as fast as he usually would. As he passed, a large gust of wind formed and spun the papers on the floor into a tiny tornado, and the books slid against the hardwood floor. His running also sent a visible swirl of wind at the two of them; Marco, not suspecting it, and Jean were thrown off their feet instantly. Jean was quick enough to steady himself against the wall, but Marco was the unfortunate one and fell to the ground in shock.

It was hard to explain exactly what had happened, mostly because Eren creating a gust of wind while running wasn’t foreign. It was common with the speeds that he could reach. However, the gusts were different this time: he ran fast enough to create a cyclone of paper, and Marco saw the gust of air forming in front of him as it shoved him down, strong enough to send him off his feet, almost like he had formed it with a wave of his hands—or feet, in this case. No one had ever been affected by Eren’s running before like that. Maybe a tickle of air while he was running, but nothing else, and certainly nothing this profound.

“How did you—” Marco began, his mind whirring as he tried to comprehend it. “Eren, you—what is this?”

“I don’t know!” He exclaimed, walking back over to them. His voice sounded like a mix of anxiety and amazement. “This just happened!”

“I think it has something to do with what happened last week,” Jean stated. “There’s no other logical explanation.”

It had been a little over a week since Marco had tried to access Eren’s DNA. The experience haunted him at night, only with Eren evaporating into pieces in real life. No one mentioned or talked about it, and even Eren had caught on to what happened and kept quiet. The possibility of Eren having a strange running effect because of last week was possible, but the thought was too painful to ponder on for long.

In response to Jean’s theory, Marco just smiled sadly, “That’s nice of you to say, Jean, but I don’t think it’s because of me.”

“It makes sense,” Eren pointed out. “I’m getting it now, a week after we tried to activate my dormant power.”

“But nothing changed for you—”

“Until now!”

“Why don’t we bring it up with Hanji and Levi?” Jean asked. “Then, we can know for sure.” Eren’s nose scrunched up, but Jean rolled his eyes. “If it’s the only way to confirm what’s going on, then I think we should try it.”

An argument broke out between the duo, and Marco decided to let them fight it out, just this one time. He was successful in hiding in his hoodie to resume sleeping, but Jean noticed and was quick to get him awake once more. They waited until they started their session with Levi to bring up the new development, which Hanji was excited to come down from their control room and help with.

“I’m not usually down here in the trenches with you guys, but I love a good surprise visit,” they grinned, their enthusiasm obvious from hurried hands and the seemingly nonstop pacing. The clipboard in their hands had been waved around so many times, Levi had resorted to holding their arm down against their side. “I can’t believe my calculations were wrong! Well, I mean, with all respect to 007, of course, but still!”

Their assistant Moblit was taking energy readings from both Marco and Eren to identify if the experiment last week had actually done anything. A handheld box, with a touch screen and two dual-purpose cords sticking from its end, read off stats received from a small clamp-like device on their fingers. The other subjects waited patiently and in equal silence, after they convinced Levi to let them stay in the arena.

“It makes sense, actually.” Hanji glanced at the stats for a brief second before staring back up at the ceiling. “We’ve never done anything like this before, so to assume that we _would_ know everything about this case is absurd. I mean, I’ve never heard of a sick-looking thread before, but there’s still a lot we don’t know. We made a really bad call on this.” They whipped towards Levi with an ecstatic glint in their eyes. “Can we fire whoever did that?”

Levi glowered up at them. They hadn’t been in the arena for long, but there was resentment and exhaustion in his gaze that suggested they had been dealing with each other for too long that day. “That was you.”

Hanji’s eyes narrowed, but they shrugged and fidgeted with their clipboard. “I’ll take the blame for it.”

Their shorter coworker rolled his eyes and stepped up to Moblit, who jumped at the sudden presence beside him. “How long is this supposed to take?”

“It doesn’t work fast,” Moblit said. “It calculates individual statuses for each component registered in its program, and then it compares the two sets of data.”

“What are you in a hurry for?” Annie asked. “Got a date?”

Levi scowled. “I have a schedule. We have to meet a certain criteria for the day, or else everything will have to be pushed back.” The machine beeped, and Moblit removed the finger readers from Eren and Marco. Hanji lunged forward to glance over his shoulder, but he shooed them away.

“It has to finalize everything!” He exclaimed.

“I could have solved this in two seconds,” Hanji huffed. They turned to Marco and poked his forehead. “You did something great.” They reached for Eren and tugged him in a tight embrace. He gave a small hiccup and a glance at the others for some help, but they all conveniently looked away at the same time. “And _you_ have a new power!”

“We don’t know that,” Levi interrupted their celebration. He tugged on Hanji’s arm and released Eren, who stumbled out of the embrace with heavy breathing. “You’re speculating on an observation with information that hasn’t ever been applied to our situation.”

Hanji, jaw clenched, stepped closer to him so that they towered over the trainer. A dark glint appeared in their eyes, hidden briefly by a flash of light from their glasses. Marco recognized it as the moment where they reminded their opponent that they were just as serious about their work, even if they failed to show it. “If the information we have isn’t used, what are we supposed to go on? We have nothing to back our claims.”

Marco glanced over at Jean, who was eyeing the two with equal parts amusement and caution. When he caught him staring, he smirked. “ _If I had money to bet, I’d put it on Hanji._ ”

“ _Wise choice_ ,” Marco replied with a smile.

“Are you flirting in each other’s heads?” Eren whispered quietly to him. Both Marco and Jean snapped to attention, faces flushed. 005 snickered in triumph.

Before Levi and Hanji could escalate any further into a louder argument, Moblit stepped forward and waved the seven subjects over. The small circle they formed cut off the two other execs from seeing the box. “So, these numbers represent the type and amount of energy contained in 007,” he explained to them. Levi and Hanji became aware of the situation and struggled to see what he was showing the group of seven. “It’s pure, kinetic-based energy, something we already knew from previous studies.” With a swipe of two fingers, the stats moved to the top half of the screen and made room for a second set. “These numbers represent the same type of energy detected in 005. They’re much lower than 007’s, but they still showed up.”

“So 005 has a kinetic now?” Jean asked.

“Almost. See, if we had gotten stats from 004, the kinetic energy would appear, but the charts would be distinct. For one, they would be at the same level, but there would be a clearer distinction in correlation.” Moblit minimized the screen to show two charts with the same stats graphed out; Marco noticed it looked similar to the graphs used to record quarterly exams and their progress, only it focused on their current state. “Here you can see 007’s power compared to 005’s. But 005 now has the same type of power that 007 has, only it’s fainter.” He pointed to a yellow line on the second graph. “You can see it right here: it’s there, but it’s not in full control. Everyone’s graph looks different, in some way, but the kinetic powers are more likely to stay at the same power level in each person.”

“Because of the basic principle of our powers,” Reiner interrupted, arms crossed. “We’re kinetic-based, but we each have control of an element. So if you study them closely, you can see smaller details that are different for each of us.”

“That’s the idea.” Moblit gave a sheepish smile and laughed nervously. “Again, we’ve never faced something like this before, so some of this information is a little foreign. But we at least know for sure that 005 has access to a faint form of kinetic energy now.”

Aside from Hanji’s persistent clamoring behind them, the group went silent. Marco wasn’t sure what to feel; for a week, he had been convinced that he was not prepared for high-energy work because he had failed to complete the task. Now, the data was telling him just how wrong he actually was. He had actually done some good, all on his own.

“It kinda looks like my speed,” Eren mumbled. When Moblit looked up at him, he pointed to the two lines. They moved up and down in almost perfect synchrony.

“That might be why you can create wind when you run,” Mikasa pointed out.

“Would the difference be from me?” Marco wondered.

“Most likely,” Moblit nodded. “There’s no way to tell until we transfer the data, because this instrument can only record your stats and show them like this. I’m sure I can get someone who can review it more closely and see if it is.”

Hanji was finally able to push their way through and grab the box. Levi stumbled behind them; he must have been just as excited, because he had yet to chastise his co-worker for their behavior. “Unbelievable,” they murmured. “I didn’t think we could do it, but we did.”

“I’m still confused,” Eren spoke up. “So 007 gave me some of his power, and it latched onto my speed?”

“Your speed appears to be the dominant strand,” Levi stated. “It’s the most evolved form of your power and if we look at the numbers, it’ll show us that it was the original strand of DNA before it was mutated.”

“But why the wind? Is that what it was supposed to be? Or would it be different—if, say, strength was my dominant, would I have power over earth?”

“And compete with me?” Reiner joked. “You can try it.”

Eren scoffed at his comment. “Shut up, I’m being serious. _Siete_ gave me his telekinesis, and now my powers are all fucked up.”

“You wanted this, so you can’t blame _sept_ for this,” Jean pointed out. “Besides, how was anyone supposed to know what was gonna happen? This is the first time one of our DNA hasn’t been activated.”

“I don’t think you have telekinesis,” Hanji mused. They peered closer to the screen and pointed at the line indicating his activated power. “I think it just looks that way for now, because that’s who woke it up.”

“I’m sorry, _cinco_ ,” Marco said. Eren glared at him before he turned away with a huff. “I didn’t know this would happen. I went in completely blind.”

“If you were blind, you shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” he growled.

His initial reason for pushing the power off was because of his inexperience. Once he felt more sure of what he was doing with his telekinesis, it became a better idea. But now, after all he had done, he was being told that it hadn’t been worth it. For the first time, Marco felt genuine anger towards another subject. Treating him horribly when he first arrived was one thing, and something he had already forgiven, but this was another.

“You can’t be serious,” Jean snapped before he could open his mouth. “He didn’t want to do this for that exact reason! Remember when you stormed in all pissy that he didn’t help make you right?”

“This wasn’t what I needed!” Eren shouted back. “I’m not supposed to have this power!”

“How do you know that?” Marco countered. “Your actual powers haven’t changed. You just got a new one.”

“I just know, okay?! That’s what _they_ told me!” He pointed at Levi and Hanji, both who were just as uncomfortable from the arguing as the other subjects.

“They could be wrong! When I changed, they said I had more power than I could handle, even though we were all told otherwise!”

“And what do you know?!” Eren sped up to stand in front of Marco; the wind that expelled from his feet pushed the crowd back a few feet. Marco had to steady himself with a forceful shift of his foot to stay standing. “Are you one of them?! You’re suddenly an expert on this shit?, after so long of not knowing what the fuck to do?!”

“That’s enough,” Levi snapped at them, pushing between them and separating them. He looked up at Marco and reached up to poke at the faint but growing ring above his head. “Control yourself. You know better.” Eren snorted mockingly, but his expression dropped when their trainer turned his gaze to him. “And you can go sit in the control room and wait for me. We’re going to see what you can do with this addition to your running.”

Eren barely gave a noise of protest and walked out of the arena, despite the look he shot the floor at how quickly he followed the order. Levi watched him leave before he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He chatted with Hanji and Moblit a few feet away from the subjects, allowing them the chance to reconvene on their own.

“You know he didn’t mean anything by that, right?” Reiner asked Marco. “There’s a lot going on right now.”

“I’m going through things too,” Marco pointed out. “If you’ll remember, the exact reason I didn’t want to do this is why he’s mad in the first place. You guys even told me I couldn’t do it because I was inexperienced!”

Mikasa, whose eyes had remained on the door behind them, glanced over at him. “I thought it would have been good for him, too,” she admitted. “Two years ago, he sounded excited to discover what the missing strand was.”

“And now he resents me for helping.”

“I wouldn’t say he resents you.”

“What would you call his performance, then?” Jean jabbed. “It looked like resentment to me.”

Mikasa’s eyes narrowed at him. “Of course you would say that.”

“He at least has a reason to dislike me! He has none to be mad at _sept_ , and you know it.”

Marco admired the comment he made, even if it caused a warm stirring to erupt in his gut that was appearing more frequently with every action Jean took towards him. He refused to spend much time dwelling on their meanings or what lay hidden underneath, in fear of what conclusion he would reach. He appreciated the gesture, that much was certain. But what that gesture meant, and the value that Marco should assign to it, caused him to draw back and hesitate in going so far. Besides, there was too much going on to wonder on little things like romantic attraction.

Eren spent the rest of the morning at the arena, trying out his new ability and seeing what he could do. The next day, the other subjects joined him and took turns bouncing their abilities off him. From what had been gathered, Eren had some ability over the air around him that could only be harnessed when he was running. He could create cyclones and swirling spheres that he could send in whatever direction he pushed them in, and it was able to trap the abilities of the kinetics within its swirling depths. However, outside of running, the ability was inaccessible. Levi had put the blame on the DNA being so weak for having been inactive for so long and, therefore, worn down. It took responsibility away from Marco, which made him feel a little better, especially when Eren apologized for his attitude.

And yet 005’s power was the least shocking news they received. After the monthly meeting with the exec board of WOF, Eren’s new ability was miniscule.

Erwin orchestrated the meetings to establish a better relationship between executive board members and the subjects, though the effect had yet to be seen from the latter’s side. At the very least, they had the chance to amuse themselves and mess with the four scientists, as if they were extracting revenge on them for landing them in their current situations. The execs, however, were unusually late; Erwin opened the door and walked in, looking less composed as usual but better than the babbling group behind him. Levi and Hanji were going back and forth about something that had taken place; Mike’s hair hung in his face and hid his expression, but the bits he contributed to the conversation proved that something big had happened.

“Having fun in the broom closet?” Annie asked. The subjects had been waiting in the conference room in their usual seats for at least twenty minutes. Eren and Reiner were in the middle of planning a getaway before the higher-ups finally arrived.

“Something came up,” Erwin stated, ignoring the question. It would have garnered some snickering from the subjects, if he hadn’t looked so nervous and off. “In a week, we’re going to have some visitors at the facility.”

“That’s new,” Eren said. He looked over at the three who had been there the longest. “Has that ever happened?”

“Not that I can remember,” Bertholdt answered. “We’re in a secluded place. The only people we see are government employees.”

“Titans are humanlike,” Jean joked. “Do they count?” Marco scolded him with a glare and a nudge.

“That’s debatable,” Hanji piped in. Their usually eccentric energy was at a suspicious lull, but their eyes still had an excited glimmer within their depths.

“Okay, something weird happened,” Eren, eyes narrowed, crossed his arms. “Aside from the fact that you guys are never late to your own meeting, you never act like this.”

Erwin waited for the other execs to take their seats before he faced the subjects across the table. “Darius Zackly, the commander of the military, including our sanction, wants to see the work we’ve been doing. In his opinion, what we’ve done recently has rendered enough credibility for a visit.”

“Even though what we’ve been doing for the past ten years should have been enough for him,” Levi commented under his breath. “But what does our word matter?”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Eren mumbled. His eyes stayed on his twisting hands, whirling thoughts and anxiety swirling in green eyes. “Now that I have two abilities, he wants to see what I can do.”

“It won’t be a gawking show.” Levi glowered at the accusation, gray eyes flashing like a thunderstorm. “If anything, it will be an evaluation. But the second it turns into anything but, I’m shutting the whole thing down.”

“You have that kind of authority?” Mikasa inquired sharply, one eyebrow raised.

Levi met the intensity of her stare with just as, if not more, vigor. “Yes, I do, because I work with you seven the most out of anyone else, and I can easily embarrass us and ignore the assignment I’ve been given. They don’t want to cross me.”

“We’ve already taken precautions for how we’ll introduce you,” Erwin spoke up, probably to stop the two from fighting. “Zackly, along with two other higher-ups in the military, will preview each of your individual training sessions with Levi, but they will not meet you. We want your privacy to remain, regardless of who our guests are.”

“Who else is coming?” Eren asked.

“Nile Dok, the head of military operations and Zackly’s second-in-command, and Dot Pixis, head of special defenses.”

“It would have been two of them, if Dok had taken a hint and stayed away,” Levi grumbled. “But apparently, he’s shocked that Erwin can do something right, so he wants to see what we’re doing for himself.”

Eren, eyes narrowed, glanced between the execs. “Can’t you bar him from coming?”

“We already tried.” Levi glanced over at Hanji, who pouted and shifted down in their chair. The frown on their face was startling to see. “He works directly in Zackly’s office, though, so we have little ability in being able to stop him.”

“Sounds like bullshit.”

“It sounds like the only way, brat. I already said I’m going to stop anyone from finding their way to you, even if it means risking my job.”

Silence fell in the room, and Levi sat back in his chair, arms crossed; Hanji patted his shoulder lightly, and he relaxed. If he kept his word and truly tried to protect the subjects from reaching him, Marco didn’t see any problem with a new audience for one day. Maybe a viewing from outsiders would do some good for them and help them improve. But the same thoughts were not consistent among the group, especially with Jean. Marco knew what it was before he had even spoken.

“So,” Jean began slowly, “we have to perform in front of everyone?”

Erwin must have caught the fear as well, because his response was steady in its reassurance. “I wish there was some way to avoid it for you, but there’s no way around it. You’ll have to perform in front of them, at least on the day of. You can train in private for the time being.”

Jean nodded, but the distant look in his eyes told a different story. It was more than likely that he hadn’t been listening at all and was focusing on the debilitating fear of having to perform in front of the others. Marco had found a spot with Levi at the privately-made training sessions and quarterly exams, and the other subjects were only allowed to watch on a good day. Now, he had no choice or control in the matter. Every department in WOF and the higher-ups in the military would be watching him, and for Jean, that thought was terrifying and forbidden.

“All we can ask for right now is your patience,” Erwin said. “We want to make this as easy for you all as possible without exposing you to them. For now, I want you to focus on training with Levi, so you can have individual and group sessions before our guests come. We had to rearrange your schedules, but we think it’s for the best.”

The rest of the meeting clarified more details and questions, and their schedules showed how divided their days were going to be in the upcoming week. In ten days, Zackly and the two other heads of government would arrive by helicopter and view the subjects’ capabilities. Whatever reason they had to make the trip, other than Eren’s recent development of a new power, was unknown to the subjects. Marco wondered what difference it would make if they were aware, though that would depend solely on Erwin and his exec board’s knowledge.

Once the subjects were dismissed by Erwin to their private quarters, Marco half-expected the group to burst out into protest as soon as they were in the elevator. But they made the trek up in silence until they were all in the living room of their suite and the door was shut.

“So I’m not the only one who sees this as bullshit, right?” Eren asked the group.

“Think again,” Mikasa mumbled, toying with her scarf. Some of the flames twirled absently between her fingers.

“There’s not a lot we can do,” Bertholdt said, and he flinched at the stares that whipped towards him. “Only because there’s not a lot _they_ can do! Erwin is outranked. Unless one of us is sick and can’t make it to the viewing, I don’t think we’re able to get out of this.”

Eren sighed and spared a glance at Marco. “We picked a wrong time to fix my DNA.”

Marco scoffed at the comment, though he knew it was only to lighten the mood and without ill intentions. They were all annoyed at the situation, in some way and at varying levels. Humor, at that moment, was the one way to help lighten the tense atmosphere.

“Erwin may not have a say in the matter, but he’s our voice,” Annie pointed out. Although her words were steady, there was a thin sheen of ice slowly covering the couch beneath her. If Jean was affected by the chill growing towards him, he didn’t show it. “He has more power than us in this situation, and he hasn’t done anything to help us.”

“Levi tried,” Marco pointed out.

The blonde snorted in disgust at him. “Barely. They’re only allowed to see us during the showcase, because that’ll definitely stop them from trying to see us outside of it. Yeah, it’s both helpful and reassuring.”

“I said he tried. I didn’t say it was effective.”

“I can ask for a day off,” Eren offered. “Maybe Erwin will listen to me, since Zackly’s coming to see me. And maybe Marco, but mostly me.”

Marco grimaced at the mention, but Reiner spoke up—the first time since the meeting had ended—before he could form a response. “Honestly,” he said, “I don’t want to talk about this right now. You guys can, if you really want to, but it’s a lot right now.”

“It’s not going away—” Annie started, but the tired and withering look he shot her was enough to cut her off.

“It’s been a long day. I just want to rest.”

Bertholdt wordlessly offered a hand, and they walked to Reiner’s room with tangled fingers. The door shut quietly behind them. No one made a joke or implication on what it meant for their relationship; the time didn’t feel right.

Marco noticed, once Reiner had spoken up, that Jean had been silent as well, however more expected it was coming from him. The thought of showing off his ability for everyone to see must have scared him to silence, especially because he had no way of getting out of it. He was trapped.

“Hey,” Marco whispered quietly once everyone had either talked about something else or retired to their rooms. Jean looked up at him but returned his glazed stare to his feet. “You don’t look too good.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled into his knee, though he was anything but, and only said so to put off talking about it until he found the words. “I’m tired.”

“You should go to bed.” When he didn’t move from his spot, and curled up tighter in on himself, Marco sighed and scooted closer to him. He ignored the tint of red on his face—and Jean’s—when their shoulders touched. The room was simply too hot. “You can nap here, if you want.”

Jean shifted, toying with his sock, and sniffed. “I don’t want to.”

Marco waited a few beats before he reached his hand out, up and open and waiting to be met with his. Jean gulped once he noticed it, the flush to his cheeks deepening in color. “It probably isn’t okay for me to bring this up with you, but…I think everything will be okay. The training, and everyone watching, and Zackly’s visit—”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You can only say that because it doesn’t bother you like it bothers me.”

“But I say it because I know it _will_ be okay for you, in the end. All you have to do is imagine that I’m the only one watching, because I’m the…” He had to gulp and gather the strength to continue, earning the shifter’s gaze as he did. “I’m the only one who really matters. Right?”

Jean sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes wide, and he unraveled his legs. Amber eyes blinked up at him in wonder, and Marco almost saw his mind wrapping around the concept of kind words being used _for_ him, let alone _at_ him. He deserved some type of good in his life, with all of the complications and trials and errors he had endured. Marco wished that he could help him, but he knew that Jean would have to see the good for himself. At the very least, a little help from the person he trusted most could do some good.

“I know it’s really scary to go in front of everyone and show them what you can do, especially because some of them will have certain expectations. But you should only be allowed to accomplish the goals you set out for yourself. And sure, what they think might not be great, but why does that matter so much?”

“They,” Jean gulped and cleared his throat before answering, “from the moment they meet me, they form an opinion of me, and I have no control over it. And it’s so much easier to just let them think what they want instead of trying to change their minds and prove myself.”

“I know it is.” Marco smiled and leaned closer. Their legs were touching, but the feeling was lost on his mind. All he could take in was the look Jean was giving him, because it was filled with the most admiration and adoration he had ever seen from him, and he was amazed that the feeling could be mirrored towards him. “It’s a lot easier than having to constantly work and achieve expectations.”

“But _you_ don’t have a reason to feel that way. I mean—” he laughed quietly and gestured to the body in front of him. He almost ended up hitting him in the process, so he rested his hand behind Marco’s back, succeeding in bringing them closer. “Have you looked at yourself? You carry yourself so well, and you hold a lot of care in your heart, and you’re warm and thoughtful and smart and…god, this is corny—”

“No, it’s nice. You should keep going.” His words tumbled out before he could stop them. “I feel the same way about you.” He heard an audible gulp and watched the amber eyes dart down to his lips and back to his eyes. Marco couldn’t help but add, with a teasing lilt in his voice, “even if you can be grouchy and stubborn.”

Jean blinked before his words clicked, and he chuckled under his breath. “Watch what you say. I can write an entire thesis about how stubborn _you_ are.”

“I dare you.” Marco leaned closer so that their noses touched, licking his lips nervously. “You got nothing on me.”

The air between them grew hotter, nerves growing tense at the possible of what could happen. W-well, I think I do.”

“Tell me.”

“Hmm.” The distance between them must have caught up with his mind, or maybe he scared himself out of the flirtatious stupor he had tumbled into. Either way, Jean’s hand slipped out from under him and nearly sent him tumbling into his chest. Marco, startled by the movement, cried out and fell backward. Jean scrambled to his feet, grabbing at his hair and forcing himself to look straight ahead. “See you tomorrow!”

Jean scrambled into his room, and Marco composed himself. He wasn’t quite sure what they had done, or if it could be labeled as something. It was another one of a handful of times where they had reached such a close proximity and acted like it was nothing, like it was casual, something friends did and something they were doing because they were friends. The only difference was that, this time around, Marco didn’t want it to be temporary, and he wanted it to be beyond the label of friendship.

“Nice going, seven. Now you won’t bone.”

Annie’s comment earned her a smoldering glare for the hypocrisy and a swipe of a hand to release her bun for the comment.


End file.
